


Under the Sea

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 10 (all the AUs: Megan/Nate/Carver) [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Matriarchy, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:31:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 51,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Carver Hawke goes overboard on the voyage to Kirkwall and is rescued by a beautiful mermaid. When she takes him home, he quickly realizes that things are very different among the merfolk... First posted as Day 6 of the "Challenge on Infinite Earths", now a full story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gone Under

**Chapter 1 - Gone Under**

Maybe he should have stayed below decks when the storm hit.

Yeah, definitely. That's what he should have done. But it had been so… exhilarating: gusts of wind hitting his face; the briny taste of seawater on his lips; the roar of the waves around him. Carver hadn't felt so alive since they'd left Ferelden. Certainly not down in the ship's hold, cooped up with his family among the other refugees, trying to ignore Mother's sobs and his brother's muffled curses.

They had warned him, of course, told him to stay down with the others, where he would be _safe_. As if he wanted to be safe. Not after what had happened to Bethany. When the wave had hit the ship, he hadn't stood a chance. He'd gone straight overboard, only just managing to cling to a plank that kept him floating for a while. But now his arms were getting tired and it was so tempting to just let go, to let the sea take him, let the green water drag him down, into a cold, wet grave…

He blinked when he first saw her, sure he was hallucinating. Creatures like this were the stuff of fairy tales, children's imaginings. She looked just like the pictures in Mother's old book of tales, with wild hair, green eyes, and a scaly tail. She was naked from the waist up. Even in his current predicament this made him blush, so he focussed on her face and her eyes. Such amazing eyes, large and luminous, and green like the sea.

"Let go. I've got you." She was right behind him, her firm body surprisingly warm against his icy skin.

He shook his head, remembering what the tales said about mermaids luring poor unsuspecting sailors into the depths with them. He had to be strong, had to resist the temptation. But he was so very tired. Bright spots were appearing in front of his eyes, dancing lights, so pretty, so cheerful…

"Trust me." The mermaid's voice was sweet and seductive. "I don't mean you any harm." Her hands wandered from his shoulders down to where he was clinging to the plank, gently loosening his fingers. "Let go."

And he did.

They went down in a smooth glide, propelled by her tailfins. He was convinced he would die but, suddenly, her hand was in front of his mouth, pushing something cold and slimy between his lips. He struggled for a moment, until he realized he could breathe. Eyes wide with wonder, he stared at her, but she just smiled and pulled him further along, never letting go of his wrist.

Carver couldn't have said where she took him, nor how long their strange underwater journey lasted. But, in the end, he felt something scrape the soles of his feet. They were in shallow water. Only moments later, his head rose above the surface again. He coughed and spluttered until he remembered the thing in his mouth and spit it into his hand, drawing several deep, relaxed breaths.

She had let go of his hand and was moving toward the shore, a small sandy beach within a cave of some kind. Sunlight was falling through a cleft in the rock, making her hair shine like copper. He followed her, watching her shyly.

When she stepped out of the water, he realized that what he had taken for a tail were, in fact, long legs clad in skin tight leggings. They were made from a shiny, greenish material resembling fish scales with some kind of fringe down the sides that gave the illusion of fins. The skin of her back was pale, but looked human, soft and silky, and when she turned, once again his eyes were drawn to her bare breasts, firm and high and perfect.

He swallowed. "Who are you? And what is this place?"

She smiled. "I'm Maeghan. And this is the Keep. The home of my people."

"Your people?" Carver was shivering, partly because he was soaked through and cold and tired, partly from fear.

She shrugged. "You landfolk call us merpeople. You have some funny ideas about us, from what I've heard. Come. I'll take you to my home." She flashed him a brief smile. "Will you tell me your name?"

"Carver." He shook himself, like a wet dog. "I'm Carver Hawke."

"Come then, Carver Hawke." She took his hand. "Let's find you a dry blanket."

As he followed her further into the cave, he instinctively reached out for the walls, trying to touch the rock, surprised when it felt firm and real under his fingertips. Surely all this had to be a crazy dream, brought about by too much rum or bad food. Yet, no dream of his had ever featured a girl as beautiful as Maeghan.

A long, winding tunnel took them to another cave, this one dry and warm and with a driftwood fire burning in the middle. There was no one to be seen, but he could hear muffled noises from a small shelter at the back.

Maeghan walked over to the fire, adding another log, then called out, "Nethanel. Look what I've found."

The man that emerged from the shelter looked wild, almost feral, at least a foot taller than the girl, with long, straggly dark hair, a wide chest and strong, well-muscled arms. Like her, he wore no shirt and the same tight pants, which left nothing much to the imagination. Carver swallowed again.

"Maeghan. Why did you bring a land dweller here?" His face was dark and his voice was rough with anger and … was that jealousy? Carver wasn't sure.

She lifted a graceful shoulder. "He was drowning. He's too young to die."

Nethanel murmured something that sounded like an obscenity and turned away, stalking over to the opposite end of the cave where he disappeared into a tunnel. Maeghan watched him leave, her face inscrutable, then turned back to Carver. "Don't worry. He'll understand."

Carver realized his hands were sweaty. "Are you… his?"

"Am I what?" She looked at him with genuine puzzlement. "If anything, he's mine." She shook her head. "He's sworn to protect me, and he's a good man, loyal and fierce. As he should be."

"But will he-" Carver hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it. "It seems he resents my being here."

"That's not for him to decide." Maeghan seemed unfazed. "And anyway, it's not as if I've asked you to mate with me. Yet," she added with a cheeky grin that made him blush up to the roots of his hair.

At the same time, he couldn't suppress a yawn, and her expression changed immediately, turning softer and more concerned. "Come on. Get some rest."

Some part of him was still screaming warnings at him, telling him to run, not to fall prey to her wiles. But he was simply too exhausted. Gratefully, he accepted the pallet she offered him. He was asleep before his head hit the mattress.

When Carver woke, alerted by a noise he couldn't place, the cave was dark except for the warm light of the campfire. He peered out through the shelter's opening and there they were, right next to the fire, just a few paces away. Both of them were naked, Nethanel flat on his back and Maeghan straddling him, their eyes locked as she moved above him. They had obviously assumed he was fast asleep, or maybe they just didn't care.

Either way, he couldn't take his eyes off them, mesmerized by the soft, undulating motion of her body, by the tiny whimpers coming from her lips and the way Nethanel's hands were gripping her hips. It was exciting and embarrassing, and he was rock hard from watching alone but, at the same time, the sheer unearthly beauty of the scene made him hold his breath. They were both so gorgeous as they made love, completely unselfconscious, their bodies in perfect harmony.

When Maeghan's rhythm faltered, Nethanel sat up, one hand firmly on her back and he took charge of their coupling, thrusting up hard beneath her, and her moans became louder, more urgent. Carver realized he was breathing faster and harder, too, and he had to fight the urge to slip a hand under the blanket and touch himself. It didn't feel right and, really, he ought to let them know he was awake but, at the same time, he didn't have the heart to disturb them, to break the spell that held them captive.

So he kept watching until Maeghan arched up high with a final, sharp cry and Nethanel slumped against her with a rough groan, hiding his face between her breasts, panting heavily. They kissed, with as much gentleness as passion, then curled up next to the fire without so much as a look in his direction. He waited until he was sure they were asleep; then he quickly stroked himself to completion, rough and unrefined. He fell asleep again, ashamed of his behaviour, yet unable to help it.

When he woke again, Maeghan was nowhere in sight and Nethanel was sitting near the fire, busying himself with a pan and a griddle. Carver got up, gingerly wrapping his blanket around himself, and headed out of the shelter. His bladder was full and he glanced awkwardly at Nethanel. "Where…"

The other man wordlessly tilted his head toward a small side tunnel and Carver followed it to a gap in the rock, undercut by a deep running current. When he returned, Nethanel handed him some greenish biscuits and a piece of grilled fish, which he accepted with a grateful nod. He was ravenously hungry, and was relieved to find the food was both nourishing and tasty. Quickly, he polished off his ration, then gladly accepted a second helping. The corner of Nethanel's mouth twisted up slightly at this, but he remained quiet until Carver sat back with a contented sigh.

"Thank you. That was delicious." He glanced shyly over at the merman.

Nethanel nodded. "Tomorrow I will show you how to prepare our food."

Carver swallowed. It seemed he was here to stay. Probably he should be more worried about the thought. His mother and brother had to be convinced he was dead, drowned in the cold depths of the Waking Sea. For a moment, he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of having added to Leandra's grief. But, if he was honest, he felt no urge to return to their side.

"Yesterday you seemed unhappy about me being here." He kept his eyes on Nethanel's face, trying to read his reaction.

But he just shrugged. "It's Maeghan's cave, so it's her decision. And we can use another man in this camp. It would be easier for me if you were one of our kind, but you will learn. At least you look strong." He looked up at Carver and, for the first time, he actually smiled. "And handsome."

Instinctively, Carver gathered the blanket more tightly around his body. "So you wouldn't object if Maeghan wants to… mate with me?"

Nethanel shrugged again. "We have a saying among our people. _What a woman wants, a woman gets._ If Maeghan wants you, it's not my place to object."

Carver's throat felt tight. "What if I don't want to mate with her?"

"But why wouldn't you?" There was genuine surprise in Nethanel's voice. "She's beautiful and strong, good at combing the sea."

"Combing the sea?" Carver was confused.

Nethanel seemed to search for a word. "Fishing, I think you would say. Looking for pearls, and treasure, too. She can easily support two of us. Really, you should be proud she's chosen you." When Carver didn't answer, he frowned. "What's the matter? Don't you want to be hers?"

Carver felt another blush rise in his cheeks. "That's not it. It's just that… I've never…"

"Ah." Nethanel was quiet for a while, then he got up. "Come on. We'll have to get you a pair of pants, but you can have my extra pair for now." He flashed another brief smile at Carver. "And don't worry. As I said, you will learn."

 


	2. Much to Learn

**Chapter 2 – Much to Learn**

Nethanel was as good as his word. He spent the whole morning patiently teaching Carver various skills he would need to be of help in the cave: gutting fish, opening oysters with a devilishly sharp knife, knotting nets. Carver did his best to keep up, but he was sincerely relieved when, after a quick lunch, Nethanel jumped to his feet and motioned for him to follow.

"Come. I have something you will like."

Carver got to his feet, tugging self-consciously at the pants hugging his legs and ass. Nethanel had done something to the waistline to make them fit better, his hands warm against the naked skin of Carver's belly, but they still felt far too tight. Fortunately, the material was soft, despite its scaly look. He'd asked the merman about it and the question had drawn one of his rare smiles from him.

"Maybe one day I'll show you how to make it. My mother's mate taught me. It's a rare skill." There was obvious pride in his voice.

Carver had picked up various hints about the merpeople's life during the morning. Their cave seemed to be part of a larger network and, from what he had gathered, there were at least three other females with their _mates_ living nearby.

"You'll meet them soon enough." Nethanel had seemed unconcerned. "Maeghan will decide when the time is right."

"So, the men do as they're told? And they stay in the caves all day long?" Carver had tried to hide his surprise as best he could.

"Of course we do. We guard the caves. That's our most important task." Nethanel had indicated the net they were mending. "This is just to pass the time."

He'd wondered what the caves had to be guarded against, and how the mermen fought, but hadn't wanted to ask more questions. He got his answer now, at least in part, when Nethanel produced two long tridents from a niche in the rock.

"Here." He tossed one to Carver. "Can you fight at all?"

"Not with a weapon like this." Carver shook his head.

Nethanel sighed, but he was patient as he showed him how to hold the shaft and went through several attack and defense routines with him. "Yes, like this. You don't have to use so much force, though. Skill will serve you better."

Carver was breathing hard from the exertion, but the trident felt good in his hands and it was a relief to work off some of his fury. He didn't have to worry about hurting the other man – Nethanel was far too quick and graceful for that. But he no longer felt quite as helpless and that was good. Carver threw himself into the fight with abandon. In his mind's eye, he was killing the ogre, saving Bethany, over and over again.

"Why are you so angry?" Nethanel frowned. "Your strokes… it's almost as if you want to punish someone."

He shook his head, blinking away a sudden tear. "Just myself. I…"

"What happened?" Nethanel's hand was on his shoulder, heavy and supportive, and the words tumbled from his lips before he could help himself.

"My sister, Bethy. My twin. She died when we were running from Lothering, killed by an ogre. I… I should have saved her." There was no answer, just the comforting weight of the other man's hand. "Teach me to fight, Nethanel." He raised his gaze to meet the merman's. "Please."

Nethanel nodded. "I will. And you will be a fearsome warrior once you get the hang of our weapons. You're strong and determined."

Carver felt his spine straighten at those words.

"I… had a brother." Nethanel wasn't looking at him. "Tam. He died about a year ago, killed by a fisherman's spear."

"I'm sorry." His words seemed inadequate but, really, was there ever anything else to say?

"Don't be." There was a hint of bitterness around Nethanel's mouth. "Tam was difficult, unhappy and rebellious. He wanted to be with Maeghan too, you see. Kept badgering her to take him to her cave."

When he saw Carver's confused expression, Nethanel elaborated. "Brothers can't mate with the same woman. It's wrong, unclean. But he refused to give up." He closed his eyes, clearly unwilling to show his feelings. "In a way, our lives became much easier when he died."

Carver swallowed, trying to imagine how he'd have felt if Revon had been the one to be killed by the ogre, instead of Bethany. Yes, he would have been relieved as well. Sad too, but mostly relieved. Of course, Revon had survived. His heroic brother had saved the day with his magic, just like always. He hadn't saved Bethy, though.

He shook off the thought. "One more round?"

Nethanel took up the trident with a brief nod. "Yes."

* * *

Maeghan returned shortly before sunset, looking tired and a bit straggly, dragging a full net behind her. Nethanel stood, ready to take it from her, and for the next hour they were busy preparing the meal and sorting through her findings while she rested near the fire.

Once they had all eaten, Nethanel pulled her onto his lap and took a comb from a small box, decorated with seashells. Maeghan settled on his thighs with a happy sigh as he began to untangle her hair, picking out small strands of seaweed and trying to loosen the knots. Carver watched them, feeling his throat tighten at the tenderness between them.

When he'd finished, Nethanel exchanged the comb for a small flask and briefly slapped Maeghan's back, indicating her leggings with a tilt of his head. "Off."

She complied with a grin, wiggling out of the tight garment. Nethanel ran a hand down her back, drawing a long moan from her, and, just like that, the mood changed from tender to sensual. Carver felt his face grow hot at the sight of her long, bare legs and the small, red-golden triangle of hair at the junction of her thighs. Not only his face, to be precise. Of course, his pants did nothing much to hide his reaction.

He was still debating whether he should withdraw to the shelter when Nethanel tossed him the flask. "Here. Help."

There was oil in there, aromatic and rich, and together they poured it over Maeghan's long, pale limbs, spreading it gently over her skin. Nethanel's hands seemed to be everywhere on her slim body, so Carver did his best to focus on her legs. They looked just like any other girl's legs he'd ever seen, not that there were many of those. Her skin was smooth and slippery, though, and it felt amazing under his hands.

He would have been mortally embarrassed by the bulge in his pants if Nethanel hadn't been just as visibly affected. Maeghan too, from what he could tell. Her skin was flushed and she met each of their touches impatiently, as if her body was begging for more.

"Carver. Please." Her hands were on him now, and he almost jumped back because her touch was so intense and he didn't know how long he would last.

He did get rid of the pants, though, but then he hesitated, instinctively looking to Nethanel for permission and guidance. The other man nodded briefly and took his hand, guiding it between Maeghan's legs. She opened up willingly for him and she was… hot and wet and tight and wonderful and he wanted her, oh Maker, he wanted her so much, and he had no idea how-

A firm hand wrapped around his cock, and he shuddered at the realization that it was Nethanel who'd taken hold of him and was now guiding him inside her. He slid home with a long, helpless gasp, completely overwhelmed by it all. No fantasy of his had ever prepared him for how good it felt to be surrounded by her, warm and snug and perfect.

Too perfect. His body was screaming at him to move, to thrust inside her, and it was more than he could bear. With another gasp, he gave in to the urge, his hips jerking hard against her, three, four times before he spilled deep inside her with a long, almost desperate groan.

Maeghan laughed softly, triumphantly, and then Nethanel pushed him aside, too impatient to wait, and took his place. Carver's knees were too wobbly to move, so he stayed there, right next to them, breathing in their sighs and gasps. The soft, rolling motion of Nethanel's hips was beautiful to watch, but then Maeghan wrapped her legs tight around his torso and urged him on.

"Harder. Please, Neth, more." Her voice was rough and breathless, and her hand scrambled for purchase in the sand until she found Carver's and threaded her fingers through his, pressing his hand hard.

Nethanel responded with a low growl, pushing himself up high on his arms and pounding inside her, hard and fast. She cried out and Carver bit his lip – surely, this had to be hurting her, had to be too much? But, Maeghan was still urging her lover on, with small sighs and whispered words, and Nethanel's pace became frantic. When her head flew back on a long sigh, her nails digging into his palm, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Carver kept holding her hand while Nethanel found his release with another hard, relentless thrust. Maeghan's face was flushed and happy, and Carver saw no reason to object when she pulled him in for a long kiss, then turned her head to kiss Nethanel too.

As he drifted off to sleep, listening to their low voices, Carver wondered once more if all of this was just a fevered dream, a vision sent by a desire demon to tempt him. _Too good to be true_. Breathing in Maeghan's salty, crisp scent, he closed his eyes. _Please don't ever make me wake up again._

* * *

Maeghan woke early, flinching when she realized they had spent all night on the rough, sandy floor of the cave. The men were still fast asleep, stretched out on either side of her, so at least she wasn't cold. But, her back was aching and her arms and legs felt stiff. Quickly and silently she got to her feet, smiling at Carver's grunt when she wiggled out of his arms.

His face was scrunched up in sleep, two deep lines between his brows making him look sulky and resentful. She had felt it in him right from the start, the anger and the frustration. Something had gone badly wrong for him, out there, but she was convinced he would come to realize that things were different here, at the Keep.

She stretched and wolfed down a few dry biscuits she found near the fireplace, then she pulled on her leggings and got ready to leave. Swimming would do her good, help her clear her head and loosen her sore muscles. The sea would heal her, just as it always did. The sea was home.

Carefully, she stepped past Nethanel's sleeping body. He looked happy and sated, his powerful body heavy and relaxed. She was glad he had taken a liking to Carver. Maeghan had been happy with him for the past three years, but the others had been insistent, constantly reminding her that a young woman like her should have at least two mates, to increase her chance of healthy offspring.

She made a face as she bit down hard on the breather, not because of the salty, faintly unpleasant taste – she was used to that after all.

No, it was the memory of Gwynedd's pontificating tone that made her flinch. "It behooves you to take another mate, Maeghan. It is high time you added to our clan."

Much as she respected the older woman, Maeghan resented this kind of intrusion into her private life. And anyway, none of the young men from her clan had been suitable. Sure, Nethanel would have been happy enough with Andras. They had been good friends before Neth had come to her cave, maybe even more than that, Maeghan suspected. But Andras had never looked at her with the kind of hunger she knew and expected from a lover. And while the merfolk didn't necessarily mate for life, she didn't fancy taking a second man to her fire if he proved to be more like competition than anything else. In the end, her friend Vaileann had agreed to mate with Andras, but it was an open secret that they weren't happy together.

All those thoughts were forgotten the moment she was under the sea again. The water was cool on her skin, fresh and silky soft, and she allowed the waves to carry her, her blood singing with delight as she followed the familiar currents out to the open sea. Her net was securely attached to her belt, ready to be filled with food and treasure. Maeghan smiled to herself as she tried to imagine what adventures would await her today, what surprises the sea would hold for her. She had a feeling this was going to be a good day.


	3. Fresh Blood

**Chapter 3 – Fresh Blood**

Her instincts had been correct. Shortly after noon, Maeghan's net was full to bursting with food and loot. She rested for a while on a rocky outcrop, letting the sun warm her skin, savouring the soft warm breeze, allowing her thoughts to wander. The storm had passed, and the ship Carver had come in had long since sailed on. Her particular corner of the Narrow Sea was quiet and peaceful today, with no landfolk in sight.

She returned to the cave early, feeling full of energy and more than ready to further explore the new situation. _Two mates._ A shiver of excitement ran down her spine at the thought. Last night had been quite the thrill. She couldn't wait to show Carver more. Once he'd learned how to please her, things would be even more exciting.

Nethanel and Carver were sparring with the tridents when she entered the inner cave, both of them covered in a fine sheen of sweat, panting with the effort. They paused at the sight of her, but she motioned for them to go on and settled down at the fire, reaching for her comb. Running it through the entangled strands of her hair, she watched them with captive interest as they resumed their attacks.  

Nethanel moved with his usual grace, his long years of routine with the weapon clearly showing. The trident was practically an extension of his arm as he advanced and retreated with impressive speed. She loved his body, loved the intense focus in his eyes that reminded her of... other occasions, loved that he was strong and capable and confident. His parents had preferred his brother and sister over him, but she had always known Neth was special, even back when they'd been children.

And then there was Carver. Carver who was all new and unfamiliar and so very exciting. Maeghan feasted her eyes on the play of muscles in his strong arms and thighs, on his broad back and wide shoulders, wondering idly whether he would be even stronger when he was fully grown. He seemed so young most of the time, barely old enough to be considered as a mate, but then suddenly his expression would change, the teenage sulkiness making room for something much deeper, much more mature. And that was when things got interesting.

Maeghan hadn't wasted much thought on the ramifications of her decision when she'd saved Carver. He'd been young and handsome, and about to drown, and she'd followed her instincts. When Neth had protested, her usual stubbornness had set in, and she had automatically insisted on her choice, without actually considering whether she wanted him in the long run. Still, she had to admit he intrigued her, and she rather hoped he would stay.

Carver's trident slipped from his hand and hit the cave floor with a loud clatter. Maeghan expected Nethanel to pause and let him pick it up again, but instead he laughed, a wild, happy laugh, and dropped his own weapon. With one graceful leap, he was at Carver's side, grabbing him around the waist and wrestling him down to the floor. Carver hesitated for a brief moment, then he, too, laughed, and the two of them rolled over the sandy floor like two young dogs tussling for a bone. Carver was a bit stronger, but Nethanel was fast and flexible, so they were pretty evenly matched.

Maeghan couldn't take her eyes off them, feeling her breathing speed up when Neth pinned Carver hard to the ground, only to topple over as Carver pushed up against him, reversing their positions. She was pretty sure Neth was doing this on purpose, putting on a show for her to rile her up. If so, it was working. Her skin was tingling with want, and she was wet already, just from watching. The two of them weren't unaffected either, she couldn't help but observe as her eyes wandered lower, both of them hardening in their tight pants, both of them breathing hard. Carver was holding Nethanel by the wrists, struggling to keep him in place as the other man wriggled under him, creating more friction.

When Nethanel finally managed to free his right hand, he didn't even bother with fighting back any more, grabbing Carver by the neck instead and pulling him down into a hard kiss. Maeghan simply couldn't hold back an urgent mewl at the sight, and Carver broke the kiss, glancing over at her with darkly blown eyes, his lips swollen and trembling.

Nethanel groaned, thrusting up below him. "Maeghan. Come here."

She settled on top of him, right behind Carver, running her hands all over his chest, tracing the taut muscles of his stomach, teasingly following the dark trail of hair down to the seam of his pants, then stroking him through the fabric. He was rock hard, unconsciously pushing himself into her hand, his head flying back with a long sigh. She could feel Nethanel against her core, just as hard and insistent, and it was such a heady feeling, both of them so eager, so ready for her.

It was time to get rid of their clothes, she decided, and they seemed to agree. Within moments, all three of them were naked and touching again, limbs tangling, lips hot on cool skin. Carver went straight for her breasts this time, his big hands almost covering them completely before he replaced them with his greedy mouth, licking, suckling, making her whine with delight. She knew the land dwellers insisted on covering their women's breasts, though she'd never understood why. Whatever the reason, it seemed to make the men that much more eager for them. As a matter of fact, it would have been funny if it hadn't been so very hot.

She was already shaking with lust when Nethanel's warm strong hands spread her legs and he settled between them, dragging his tongue all over her shivering flesh. Maeghan cried out and Carver stopped what he was doing, looking down uncertainly at Neth's head.

Nethanel grinned, a boyish, cheeky grin that made her heart skip a beat as she realized how much she had missed seeing it on his face. "Carver. Come here. Taste."

His voice was rough and dark as sin, and Maeghan nearly came from his words alone. Carver, too, gasped hard, but then he joined Neth, watching with wide-eyed fascination before he put his mouth on her, carefully, hesitantly, and then with growing enthusiasm. Nethanel stayed at his side, whispering in his ear, and when two long, skilled fingers slid inside her, she knew it was him, knew it from the way they curled and precisely, unerringly found the right spot, thrusting hard against it.

Maeghan couldn't even have said whether she screamed or not. Her climax hit her with such force that she lost all awareness for a long, blissful moment, her whole body consumed with fire, trembling under an onslaught of feelings so exquisite and so overwhelming there were simply no words to describe them.

Nethanel laughed again, low and triumphant, flipping her over so she was face down on the sand and lifting her hips to push inside her. And, Goddess, he felt so good, the whole length of him sliding back and forth inside her, filling her so deliciously as he worked himself deeper and deeper into her willing flesh. She was just about ready to come again when he spent himself with a strangled groan, shuddering against her. Maeghan whined with frustration, but he pulled back immediately to make room for Carver, who buried himself inside her with a long, grateful sigh. He paused for a moment, to gather his breath and regain control, then he began to move, and it was... perfect. Carver felt different inside her, Maeghan realized, not quite the same shape and size as Nate, the difference just enough to hit new spots and stretch her in new and exciting ways. She tumbled over the edge again, screaming and arching her back high. Dimly, she heard Carver's muffled groan as he, too, finished inside her.

As soon as they had recovered a bit, they made their way over to the fire, all three of them suddenly struck by a different kind of hunger. Nethanel prepared their meal with quick, economic movements, and they all tucked in heartily, nearly burning their fingers in their greed. Afterwards, Nethanel leaned back against the cave wall with a happy sigh, putting his arm around Maeghan and motioning for Carver to join them. She smiled when Carver stretched out next to her and placed his head in her lap, his eyes closed, his expression open and vulnerable.

For a while, they sat in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire and the muffled sound of waves beating against the rocks outside. She was beginning to think Carver had fallen asleep when a frown crossed his forehead and he opened his eyes.

"Maeghan?" He sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure his question would be welcome.

"What is it?" She ran a hand through his dark hair. It felt good, thick and silky soft.

"When you went out today, did you…" Carver took a deep breath. "Did you see any sign of a shipwreck?"

"You mean the ship you were on?" Maeghan smiled reassuringly. "They didn't go down, don't worry. It was a strong ship, well-built, and the storm wasn't that bad. They're miles from here already."

He seemed relieved, but didn't say more.

Maeghan kept a careful eye on his expression. "Do you want to go back?"

"No." He shook his head decisively, and there was no trace of doubt in his tone. "No. There's no one-" He broke off.

Nethanel made a small soothing noise and placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

"No family?" Maeghan asked quietly.

"My mother and my brother." Carver swallowed. "But, they won't miss me much, I think. They probably think they're better off without me."

Maeghan was spared a reply when he sat up, looking at her with renewed curiosity. "What about your family?"

"This used to be my mother's cave. She died a few years ago and left it to me."

"The caves pass from mother to daughter?" Carver seemed surprised. "What about the men?"

"What about them?" Maeghan shrugged. "Sons move in with their own mates, so they can't take over their mother's cave. It wouldn't make sense."

"What about your father, though? Isn't the cave his, too?" Carver was frowning again.

Maeghan shook her head. _Landfolk!_ They had the oddest ideas. "Caves belong to women. Anyway, my mother had several mates during her lifetime, so I don't know how you would tell which of them was my _father_. Her last mate died with her." She kept her tone matter-of-fact, though thinking about losing them still hurt. "They were both killed by the Deep Ones."

Carver looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry. But… There must be more of you, right? Of your people?"

She laughed softly. "Yes, there are. Not all that many, though. This is one of the smaller clans in Thedas, as far as I know."

"Yes, but… Where are they all? Do you ever meet?"

"We do." Maeghan sighed. "As a matter of fact I'll have to take you to meet the others, sooner or later. They have a right to know."

Carver looked both terrified and excited at the prospect of encountering more strangers.

"Don't worry. As Maeghan said, it's a small clan, and most of them are friendly." Nethanel joined in the conversation, a reassuring smile on his face. "I think they'll be happy to see a new face. There hasn't been anyone since Sirin moved in with her mates."

"Moved in… So people can just join or leave a clan?" Carver was obviously confused by all the new information.

Maeghan nodded. "Sometimes younger folk look for mates in other places, or just go looking for better fishing grounds. My brother left, and so did Neth's sister… And sometimes we take in land dwellers, like you." She smiled at him. "Come on. I know this is a lot to take in, but we will take good care of you, I promise."

"We certainly will." Nethanel rose and stretched lazily. "And we should start by getting some sleep."

They joined him in the shelter. Neth had tied together several pallets to make a big bed for them all, and she immediately claimed the place in the middle, between the two of them. She was pleasantly tired, worn out from a long, happy day. And she was looking forward to tomorrow. A lot.

 


	4. Attachment

**Chapter 4 - Attachment**

Nethanel watched Carver, who was mending nets by the fire. The land dweller had settled in well in the past ten days, all things considered. True, he was clumsy at most of the domestic tasks, clearly unfamiliar with the tools, his thick fingers struggling with the delicate needles and knives. He also kept asking questions. His curiosity seemed limitless, and Nethanel found himself explaining the merpeople's life and habits over and over until his throat hurt from the unfamiliar effort of speaking.

He enjoyed their sparring sessions with the trident, however. Carver was a quick learner when it came to fighting, strong and surprisingly graceful once he'd got a grip on the basics. It was fun to measure his strength against another man once more, and Nethanel honestly appreciated the thought of having his mate at his side if the Deep Ones attacked again.

Just then, Carver glanced up from his work and gave him a shy smile, holding up the net. "Is this okay?"

"Looking good." He smiled back, surprised at the warmth blooming in his belly. It was all still very new but, he realized, he was getting _attached_ to Carver.

Which was as it should be, of course. It had taken Maeghan comparatively long to find a second mate, but he'd always known it would happen someday. He'd even looked forward to it to some extent, having someone to share his duties with, someone to keep him company. Someone to fight at his side.

Yes, it was good to have Carver here, good not to be alone any more during the day. But, even better were the evenings they spent with Maeghan, making love and exploring each other's bodies to their hearts' content.

Like all young mermen, he'd experimented with other boys before Maeghan chose him, but nothing had prepared him for how exciting it would be to share her with Carver. Part of it was watching Maeghan with him. Nethanel was still surprised by how much it aroused him to see her writhe in Carver's strong arms. He simply hadn't expected to be so massively turned on by guiding the younger man's movements, hadn't realized it would be such a thrill to hear Carver's moans, to feel him slide in and out of Maeghan's body as he caressed her, making sure she'd get her pleasure, too.

Carver was still far too impetuous, of course, apt to spend far too early, overwhelmed by their caresses and the feel of Maeghan surrounding him, hot and tight. But then, he was still very young. Nethanel smiled wryly to himself, remembering his first few weeks in Maeghan's cave, more than three years ago. He'd been much the same, spilling inside her almost as soon as they were joined. Carver would learn.

When Maeghan returned that night, she was tired and irritable, so he wasn't really surprised when he found a pink seashell on her pillow the next morning. Not surprised, but a little sad, maybe. They'd been hoping for a baby for quite a while now, but in vain. Few children had been born to their clan in the past ten years, and he knew the women worried. He glanced at Carver, who was only just beginning to stir. Maybe adding the strength of another man's seed would help.

Carver yawned, but looked confused when he showed him the shell. "What does it mean?"

 _Of course._ Another thing he wouldn't know about. Nethanel sighed. "It's that time of the month. The new moon," he elaborated when Carver still looked baffled. "She can't go out to comb the sea like this – the blood would attract predators. And she can't mate with us either. So she's gone to be with Gwynned, our Clan Mother, to spend the time learning about things women need to know."

"Oh. Right." Carver was blushing, but then he frowned. "So when she… gets like that, she just leaves, and we stay alone in the caves?"

Nethanel nodded. "Usually. Before you came along, it was a lonely time for me." He raised his hand and softly stroked Carver's cheek with his thumb. "I'm glad you're here."

Carver blushed even deeper, but he didn't flinch or push him back. "So am I."

Once again, Nethanel felt a pleasant shiver. All through the day, as they were tending to their duties, he considered his next move. When Maeghan failed to show up in the evening, Carver seemed a bit lost, more restless than usual. Nethanel knew staying in the cave all day was hard on him. He was used to moving about, meeting people, talking. Especially talking. The landfolk seemed to do a lot of talking, from what he could gather.

"So, what do we do now?" Carver was kneeling next to the fire, poking the embers with a long stick, his expression almost cranky. "When will Maeghan be back?"

Nethanel shrugged. "Four days, maybe five. Do you miss her?"

Carver nodded. "Yeah. I miss her, and I miss-" He broke off, biting his lip. It was hard to tell in the firelight, but Nethanel was pretty sure he was blushing again.

"We don't have to wait for her to come back, you know." Moving closer, he placed a hand on Carver's thigh, relishing the small tremble this elicited. "You're my mate just as much as hers."

"Oh." Carver's tongue darted out to lick his lips. "But what-"

"Anything we fancy." Unable to contain his impatience, Nethanel leaned in for a kiss.

They had kissed before, with Maeghan there to watch them, which she obviously enjoyed. But this was different, just the two of them, focussing on each other instead of her pleasure, and the kiss turned frantic with almost shocking speed. Within moments, it was all teeth and tongue, all refinement lost as they drank in each other's taste, both of them trembling with sudden hunger.

Nethanel didn't hold back any longer. With one hand holding Carver in place, he slid down along the younger man's body, his lips never leaving his skin, licking, sucking, and playfully nipping at him, until he reached the waistline of the tight pants. Carver was straining against them, moaning with relief when he freed him from the confining material.

And then he was all laid bare, so beautiful, leaning back on his arms, his stomach rippling with muscles, his breath coming in quick, hard gasps, his cock jutting out hard and proud. It was a pity, but Nethanel could only take a moment to appreciate him, because he _had_ to taste him, _now_. And, Goddess, it was perfect, Carver's taste and weight on his tongue, his hand in his hair, his eyes fluttering shut, and every muscle going taut in his body.

"Maker, Neth, you-" Carver was clearly struggling for words, but when Nethanel flicked his tongue against him, swirling it around his pulsing member, he shook his head. "Let me."

He carefully wiggled around to lie down on his side next to Nethanel and slowly, uncertainly, but with a determined look on his face, pulled down his pants and took him between his lips. Nethanel gasped hard. He hadn’t expected this, and it felt good, more than good, though Carver was very obviously new to this and unsure of how to proceed. But, he kept at it, imitating whatever Nethanel did to him and that was… sweet and somehow touching and also incredibly hot.

He faltered when he was close, and Nethanel didn't bother to hold back his brief triumphant laugh when he arched up, shaking all over with the power of his climax. But then Carver's mouth was back, with nothing to distract him this time, and his own arousal quickly spiralled upward, so quickly he couldn't help the sudden, sharp thrust of his hips, didn't have time to warn the other man before he came hard, his fingers clenched into Carver's broad shoulders.

* * *

Carver had no choice but to swallow, but found to his surprise that he didn't mind. It hadn't been easy to pluck up the courage to reciprocate Neth's caresses but, now that he'd made up his mind, he was determined to go through with it. Besides, the taste wasn't unpleasant, not really. And doing this to Nethanel, making him come undone in such a manner, was exciting. It made him feel powerful, important, _needed_ in a way he'd never been before.

Of course, when he pulled back and let go of Nethanel's softening cock, the embarrassment returned immediately. His ears and cheeks felt hot with more than just arousal, and he avoided Nethanel's gaze, reaching for his pants instead.

But Neth wasn't having any of that. Taking hold of Carver's chin, he made him look up, his grip firm enough to make it clear he would accept no evasion. "Carver. Thank you." A soft smile spread over his features. "That was… amazing."

"Yeah, well…" Carver mumbled, feeling his flush deepen. "Thank _you_. I don't really-"

"Shhh." Nethanel silenced him with a quick kiss. "Come. Let's get ready for the night."

They extinguished the fire and tidied up their few belongings, then set up the usual traps outside the cave entrance. Nethanel had shown him where they were hidden and how to disarm them only two days before – a sign of the growing trust between them, as Carver well knew.

He didn't really understand why they were necessary, though, just as he was unclear on what exactly they were guarding the caves against. Both Maeghan and Nethanel had mentioned the "Deep Ones", but neither of them had elaborated on this, and so far life at the Keep had been quiet and peaceful to the point of boredom.

And yet, as he glanced up at his surroundings, he felt a curious sense of elation. Even with the fire gone out, the cave wasn’t completely dark. There was a kind of natural window in the rock above their fireplace that allowed the smoke to escape and let in sunlight by day. Now, with the moon shining down on them, everything was bathed in silvery light. _A magical place_.

Carver shivered. He wasn't much given to flights of fancy as a rule, but what he had experienced during the past weeks had been eye-opening in more ways than one. Here he was, living straight in the middle of a fairy tale, in a world that was nothing like what he'd known before, doing… _things_ he'd never even considered before. Excitement swelled up within him, filling his chest until it felt about to burst.

Nethanel was watching him quietly, giving him time to sort out his feelings. When he placed a warm hand on Carver's shoulder, there was no pressure or condescension about the gesture, just an offer of closeness and support.

"Neth?" Carver swallowed hard. "Thank you."

The warm smile he received in answer made his heart beat faster, and at the same time it made him feel more secure than he'd ever been.

* * *

They were both standing at the mouth of the outer cave, looking out for Maeghan's return. Carver was looking forward to seeing her again, though being alone with Neth for the past few nights had been... wonderful in its own way. He already knew he was going to treasure these special times they had had together in the months to come.

"Well, it seems she won't be back tonight after all." Nethanel turned to face him with a sigh.

Carver was about to agree, when a movement in the sand a few steps away from Neth's left foot caught his eye. He tried to cry out a warning, but even as he opened his mouth, a whole section of sand erupted in a whirl as _something_ leaped up from the ground and toward Nethanel. A creature the likes of which he'd never seen, a huge, flat fish with bulging white eyes and a gaping maw of tiny, pointed teeth, its scales coated all over with fine, glittering grains of sand.

Without thinking, Carver ran, pushing Neth aside and putting himself between him and the beast. The thing's jaws opened wide, and there was a moment of excruciating pain when they locked around his ankle. The last thing he saw was Maeghan's face, pale and shocked as she rose from the water.

Then the world went dark.

 


	5. Widening Horizons

**Chapter 5 – Widening Horizons**

When Carver woke up, the pain had turned into a dull throbbing, and something was wrapped tightly around his leg. The light in the cave was dim and there were no stars visible through the gap in the ceiling. _Must be a cloudy night_. Or maybe he still wasn't fully awake.

There were voices nearby, Maeghan's and another one he didn't recognize. They were talking quietly, yet Maeghan's agitation was unmistakable.

"I just never expected to see one of them so close to the caves. Neth and I managed to put it down in the end, but-"

"I know." The other voice sounded worried as well. "It's been a long time since the sandcrawlers ventured so far up. Something must have disturbed them, driven them from their nests and made them mad."

"Will he be all right?" Maeghan was talking about him, Carver realized, and he was touched by the sincere concern in her tone. _She cares_. Despite the pain, a warm feeling settled in his stomach.

"Yes." The other voice spoke up again, crisp and concise. "The bite was deep, though, and crawler teeth are coated in venom. I managed to extract most of it, but he will need more rest. I'll leave you a few poultices for him, and a potion to make him sleep. His bandages will have to be changed daily."

He managed to open his eyes. His head felt hot and feverish, and for a moment he wondered whether he was hallucinating. Maeghan was sitting at his feet, talking to a tall, imposing woman who was kneeling next to his leg. Her hair was silvery-white and her face no longer young, and she held herself with a quiet dignity that reminded him of a noble lady he had once seen, back home at the inn in Lothering. But, just like Maeghan, this woman was clad only in leggings and her breasts… He swallowed when he realized he was staring. Her bare breasts were full and round and beautiful, and her skin was smooth and soft, like a young girl's.

When he awkwardly cleared his throat, she raised an eyebrow. "Ah. You're awake. You were lucky that Maeghan came to get me straight away, young man. Sandcrawler venom is not to be trifled with."

She moved up to his head, placing a cool hand on his forehead, and those perfect breasts were only inches from his face. He was gripped by a sudden urge to touch them, to bury his face between them, and he groaned, mortally embarrassed by his reaction.

Maeghan probably attributed his moan to the pain, because she made a soothing noise and gave his foot a quick squeeze. Then, she got up and walked over to the fire. He didn't want to be left alone with the stranger, but he didn't dare protest.

The woman looked at him expectantly, and Carver realized he needed to say something, anything, so he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "So, you're what, a mer-matron?"

He immediately regretted his words, flushing scarlet, but she just chuckled dryly. "You might call me that, yes." Her face grew serious again. "I am Gwynned, and I am the Mother of this clan. And yes, I am what you would call a matron. For many years, I did my duty to my clan. I combed the sea, I fed my family, I bore two daughters and a son. I've seen plenty of friends and mates come and go, taken by the sea or by her dark children. And now I live by myself, and the others support me in exchange for my guidance and the wisdom that comes with age."

Her words momentarily distracted him from the view. "They all listen to you? Even the men?" He tried to imagine the men he'd known, his brother or the farmers of Lothering, accepting orders from an old woman, and failed.

Gwynned nodded. "I know it's different on land. But here, where the Water Goddess rules, we still remember that women are the givers and takers of life." Her voice took on a measured rhythm, as if she were repeating the words of a ritual. "It's our women who keep the clan alive. The young and strong provide sustenance and growth, the old ones like me make sure the old ways aren't forgotten and that the Goddess gets her due."

_The Goddess_ … Carver had a feeling that it would not be a good idea to mention the Maker in front of this formidable woman. "It's certainly… very different."

Gwynedd smiled without a trace of warmth. "It is, but that is nothing to be afraid of. You will learn many things here that are new to you, and your horizon will expand to accommodate them all. There'll be new things to enjoy and to love, and also new fears and dangers. And the more you struggle, the more you will grow."

Carver swallowed and nodded. _Easy for her to say._ "So, if the women decide everything, are your men happy with that?"

Again that eyebrow rose. "Why wouldn't they be? They have good lives, wouldn't you agree? They are well loved and well taken care of. Are _you_ unhappy here, young man?"

"No, not unhappy. Anything but." Carver shook his head. "It's just…" He had to gather his courage before he could ask what was troubling him most. "Why can't the men leave the caves? Why is it only the women that get to go out and comb the sea?"

Gwynned took a moment to reply and, when she did, she spoke slowly and with a certain degree of hesitation. "It's the custom of our people, the way we've lived for hundreds of years, maybe thousands. The women are stronger swimmers, for one thing. But the real reason…" She paused and looked at him questioningly. "What tales have you heard about mermaids, up in your world?"

Carver shrugged. "Beautiful creatures, luring unwary sailors into the depths with their seductive wiles and their sweet voices… Sometimes there were pictures-" He broke off, blushing.

Gwynned nodded. "Exactly. Just what a bunch of lonely, horny sailors on a ship would come up with, isn't it? A harmless fantasy. And have you ever heard of mermen?"

Carver frowned as he tried to recall the stories he'd heard as a child. "Very little. If they came up in a story, they were dangerous; evil creatures, wild and feral, to be hunted down and destroyed before they did more harm."

"There you have your answer." Gwynned rose with a sigh. "It's in our best interest to let people only see our females. There aren't many of us. If the land dwellers ever decided we were a threat and wanted to get rid of us, we wouldn't stand a chance. Far better to let them believe we're just the products of an overheated imagination."

She made him drink a bitter, briny potion, then got up to leave, stopping briefly near the fire to whisper a few words in Maeghan's ear. Maeghan glanced over at him, a thoughtful expression on her face, and nodded. Carver let his head sink back on the pillow with a sigh of relief when Gwynned finally left the cave.

What she had told him made sense, in a way, but at the same time it ran contrary to everything he'd ever known, and that scared him. Some part of him wondered whether he should ask Maeghan to take him back, before it was too late, before he became a part of this _clan_ , subject to its laws and rules. He didn't really want to go to Kirkwall, to find his mother and Revon. There was no place for him in the life they were trying to build there. But maybe he should set out on his own… But, the potion was making him sleepy, and his eyes kept falling shut. Before he could think things through, he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Maeghan sat down at the fire, staring into the flames and trying to sort out what Gwynned had told her, but she was torn from her musings when Nethanel returned to the cave. He had been busy dragging off the crawler carcass and giving it back to the sea. Now it was gone, but he still looked queasy, his face pale and wan. His hands were trembling while he was preparing their food. Maeghan suppressed the urge to touch him, knowing he wouldn't appreciate it, not now. _Damned_ c _rawlers_. She wished she had been here when the thing had first attacked.

In the normal course of events, Neth would easily have handled this. He was the perfect protector, facing every danger with unwavering courage and calm determination. He was afraid of nothing out there in the depths of the sea, with one exception. _Sandcrawlers_.

Maeghan wasn't about to blame him. True, a single crawler didn't pose much of a threat. They would lurk in the ground, their ugly flat bodies dug into the loose sand, waiting for an unsuspecting victim. But, once the element of surprise was gone, they were easily dealt with. Between the two of them, they had killed the thing without too much difficulty.

But, Nethanel had more reason than anyone else to fear them, ever since that night, more than ten years ago, when a whole pack of the beasts had torn his mother to pieces while he and his siblings had swum for their lives. Her mate, Rhendan, had left her and her children to die. He had run at the first sight of the creatures, and they had never seen him again. Of course it would have been pointless for him to return. No woman of the clan would have agreed to take him in and feed him after what he'd done.

For all his fear, Nethanel had stood his ground today, stabbing at the beast with a fierceness that belied the panic in his eyes. Maeghan knew he was determined to do better than his mother's mate, no matter what it cost him. But he was paying the price now.

With a sigh, she shook off the thought, accepting the griddle cake Nethanel handed her with a smile. They ate in silence, but when the meal was over and he still looked gloomy, she decided it was time to do something about it. Kneeling down behind him, she placed a kiss on his neck, then ran a gentle hand down his spine. He leaned back into her touch with a sigh, clearly enjoying the caress, but the deep frown between his brows wouldn't disappear.

"It's all right." She kept her voice low and warm, as soothing as she could. "It's over. We're all good."

"Carver isn't." Nethanel's voice was hoarse, as if he had to force out the words from his throat. "He could have died."

"He will be fine." She couldn't help but feel a little stab of compunction at his words. _What if Carver really had died today? Would it have been my fault for taking him in?_ But, she decided to ignore the feeling, wrapping her arms tightly around Neth and resting her forehead against his shoulder.

Nethanel inhaled sharply, his whole body tensing up again. "It was my fault. I was too careless and didn't see the crawler. Carver… He stepped in to save me, Maeghan. And it should have been the other way round. I should be the one protecting him."

"Shhh." Gently, she nibbled along his neck, smiling to herself when she felt him shiver. "I don't want to lose either of you. And there was no way you could have foreseen a crawler coming up here. Even Gwynned said so."

He made a small, questioning noise, but he relaxed noticeably. Maeghan bit down harder at the junction of his neck and shoulder, drawing a small gasp from him. "I will talk to her at the next clan meeting. Something isn't right down below. But for now…" Softly, she ran a finger down his throat, through the dark curls on his chest, then down the trail of hair on his stomach. "For now, I want you to forget about them. All right?"

Nethanel nodded, his eyes firmly closed as she took hold of him, moving into her touch, hungry for more. She smiled and increased the pressure, relishing his broken moan. "That's better."

 

 


	6. Breathing Space

**Chapter 6 – Breathing Space**

The wound on Carver's leg was by no means harmless, and it was almost two weeks until Maeghan judged it sufficiently healed to take off the bandages. By that time, he had gotten even more restless than before the attack. And his bad mood was contagious. If she had to spend another evening looking at his sulky face, watching his fingers drum out an irregular rhythm on his thighs, listening to his impatient sighs, she would surely go mad herself. She had no idea how Neth bore it.

Besides, Gwynned's parting words still echoed in her ears. "The walls of our caves are too narrow for him. He needs the horizon, he needs space to breathe, and he needs sunlight. See that he gets a chance to enjoy it, now and then."

Maeghan sighed deeply. Much as she hated to admit it, Gwynned was right, and she knew what to do. Nethanel wouldn't like it, in all probability, but Carver needed to get out.

"Carver." His head flew up when she called his name. "Tomorrow you'll need to be up early. I'm taking you out."

"What do you mean?" _Ah._ She had been correct. Neth didn't like this at all. His handsome face bore a frown, and his tone had been sharp, bordering on aggressive.

"What I said." She raised her chin and stood tall, asserting her authority. "I'm taking Carver out. A day out in the sunlight will do him good."

Nethanel opened his mouth, as if to protest, but one look at her face told him it would be useless. Muttering something unintelligible, he wandered off toward the shelter, the tense line of his shoulders betraying his anger.

Carver's face had lit up at her words, though, and he was nodding eagerly. "I'll be up at dawn. Thank you, Maeghan."

"It's fine." She smiled at him, touched by his reaction. "Get some sleep now, will you?"

With a sigh, she followed Nethanel into the shelter. It would take some effort, but she was sure by the end of the night he would understand her point of view.

* * *

Maeghan took Carver to a small, secluded beach on one of the little islands off the coast. It was a lovely place at this time of the year, quiet and sunny, sheltered from the wind by high cliffs on both sides that had the added effect of making it practically inaccessible for anyone but the merfolk. A small boat might make it to the shore, if it could get past the shoals and hidden underwater rocks, but she doubted any of the passing ships were even aware of the existence of this little cove.

She left Carver behind and went further out to sea to cast her net. When she returned, a few hours past noon, she found him fast asleep, naked on his stomach in the sand. _Goddess! He must be horribly sunburnt!_ Silently she berated herself for leaving him out here in the open all day long.

But, when she touched his shoulders, they weren't red or tender, just warm from the sun, and maybe a little more tanned than they had been before.

Carver gave a start as he awoke from his nap. "Maeghan!" Sitting up, he stretched and laughed, a little self-consciously. "You're back."

He looked relaxed and happier than he had in a long time. Maeghan shook her head. "The sun loves you." The thought made her inexplicably sad. "It always burns me. I could never stay out here in the open for so long."

He shrugged. "I'm good. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but the sand is wonderfully soft. You should try it."

She glanced up at the sun, but at this hour its rays no longer carried enough sting to burn her. Dropping down next to him, she stretched out on the ground and made herself comfortable.

It was true. The sand moulded itself gently around her curves, and with a little wriggling she soon managed to hollow out a perfect nest. Closing her eyes, she listened to the seagulls shrieking, the wind rustling in the marram grass, and the waves beating against the shore. It was pleasant to lie here, enjoying the warm sunlight on her skin and the feeling of lassitude settling upon her. _I should do this more often._

She blinked up at Carver who had been watching her quietly. "Come here."

He smiled and lay down next to her, reaching out shyly to stroke her cheek. "You look happy. And so beautiful."

Goddess, but his hand was _big_. And his skin felt good on hers, warm and soft. Suddenly, lying here and relaxing was no longer quite enough. With a suggestive grin, Maeghan caught his thumb between her lips and wrapped her mouth around it, suckling greedily. He understood her well enough, judging from the blush spreading over his cheeks. Her eyes wandered lower. _Oh yes_. He was definitely on board with the idea.

Sitting up, she ran her eyes all the way down his body, relishing the view, before she wiggled out of her leggings and straddled him with a quick, decisive move. Carver groaned and his hips came up to meet her, almost of their own accord. He felt wonderful against her, thick and heavy and already almost fully hard. She rubbed herself against him, loving the feel of him, and he moaned again.

His face hardened with determination, and he sat up, a firm hand supporting her back as he bent her back far enough to bring her breasts within reach of his hot, eager mouth. _It's always about the breasts with him,_ she managed to think, before he began to lick and suckle in earnest, driving all coherent thought from her brain.

Her breasts were tingling all over by the time he stopped for breath, and the loss of his mouth, even for just a second, was almost painful. She whimpered, arching up high, begging for more, and he obliged readily, lifting her a little so he could reach between her legs. He took care to touch her lightly, mindful not to overstimulate her, but she was long past caring. Reaching down, she took hold of his hand and impatiently guided it where she wanted it, resting only when he had two fingers buried deep inside her. And even then it was not enough.

"Carver, please." She wanted him, she _needed_ him, and she couldn't wait, not a moment longer.

He nodded, biting down hard on his lower lip as he lifted her and lowered her down on himself, slowly, already struggling for control. He was shuddering violently, and by the time she'd taken all of him in, he had to pause, breathing deeply in and out. Maeghan appreciated his efforts, and she tried to help him by keeping as still as she could. It was definitely worth a little patience on her part because, once he was fully settled, he felt so _good_ inside her.

For the duration of a few breaths, they remained like this, joined as closely as they could be, his massive arms tight around her body, his face hidden in her hair. And then he thrust up below her, just once, and she responded with a roll of her hips. Carver bit down on her shoulder, then repeated the motion, and once again, she, too, moved, drawing another gasp from him.

It felt good, more than good, but at this rate he couldn't possibly last until she was satisfied. Maeghan needed more, and she knew just how to get it. Leaning back a little, she pressed her small hand firmly against his chest. He understood and lay back, looking at her expectantly. She took a moment to enjoy the view. The effort required to keep his hips from moving made the muscles in his stomach twitch, creating the most beautiful patterns.

But she couldn't, wouldn't torment him any longer. Taking his hand, she placed it on her mound, her own fingers firmly interlaced with his as she showed him how she needed to be touched.

"Maeghan." Carver's eyes were fixed on her hand, his pupils blown widely. "Like this?"

He was clumsy at first, but he was quickly gaining confidence. When she got close, she let go of his hand and planted both hands firmly on the ground to support herself as she began to move on top of him. His hips came up to meet her again, and his touch became frantic, urgent, too intense to withstand any longer. With a long, high-pitched scream, she came, clenching hard around him, and he echoed her cry, spending himself deep inside her, shivering and trembling all over.

Maeghan sank down on top of him, clinging to his chest, grateful for his reassuring bulk. His arms settled around her, holding her firmly in place, and he whispered soft, meaningless endearments in her ear. It was only then that she realized how exposed they were on the beach. She had never made love anywhere but in the safe confines of the cave, and it felt… strange. Strange, but good.

With a long, reluctant sigh, she finally raised her head and got to her feet. "Come on. Neth will be worrying about us. Time to get back."

* * *

Returning to the cave was a strange feeling, a bit like coming home and a bit like being locked up again. Carver suppressed a sigh, wondering how Nethanel could stand this, wondering if he himself would get so used to it one day that it no longer mattered. The day at the beach had felt like a breath of fresh air. He hadn't even realized how much he'd missed the sun's warmth and the play of the breeze on his skin.

It was strange, because in a way his life had never been so good. The cave was warm, the food was tasty and plentiful, and the work wasn't too hard. He truly enjoyed Nethanel's company, and being with him and Maeghan… Carver was still not completely past blushing when he thought about the three of them together, but it definitely was a mind-blowing experience. He didn't want to leave them, didn't want to give up what he had here.

He'd been looking forward to seeing Neth again, had hoped they might talk. But, when they returned, their mate wasn't alone. He was sitting at the fire with a tall, blonde woman, and the two of them were deep in conversation.

"Vail!" Maeghan was smiling brightly at the newcomer, bending down to kiss her on the cheeks. "It's good to see you."

"You, too." The other woman was notably more reserved, but she was smiling as well. "Gwynned sent me."

Maeghan nodded. "Carver, this is Vaileann. She belongs to our clan, too, and she's a good friend of mine. Vail, meet Carver."

Vaileann was striking, with large green eyes in a delicate face, but her expression was too haughty and forbidding to appeal to Carver. Long tresses of silky blonde hair were piled up high on her head. Her breasts were firm and high, and, once again, he was flustered by the amount of smooth, golden brown skin on display for him. Carver did his best not to stare too obviously, but Vaileann had no such scruples.

Her eyes roved up and down his body, and it was obvious she liked what she saw. "By the Goddess, Maeghan, I can see why you took him home with you." She laughed, a small, bitter laugh. "Lucky you. I wish-"

Before she could say more, Maeghan stopped her with a gesture, raising an eyebrow. "Don't. We can talk later, just the two of us, if you want. Now, why did Gwynned send you?"

Vaileann rose to her feet in a lithe, fluid motion, and her voice took on a formal tone. "Gwynned is calling a meeting of the clan. Join us at the Sacred Cave three days from now. You and both of your mates are called."

Maeghan nodded, equally formally. "We shall be there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hugs and thanks to suilven for all the help and support, and many thanks to those of you who left comments. It means a lot to know that people out there are enjoying this slightly crazy take on Thedas. There'll be less smut in the next few chapters, btw, for those of you who are getting bored with it. And I will post more often, now that nearly all of the story is written and I'm fairly confident I can see it through till the end. :)


	7. Bonds Forged and Broken

**Chapter 7 – Bonds Forged and Broken**

"So, what's this meeting about?" Carver whispered in Neth's ear. "And where are you taking me?"

They had gone under water for just a little while, then they had entered a labyrinth of tunnels and caves, dimly lit by crevices in the rock and the occasional torch. Carver stuck closely to Nethanel. He was sure he would never find his way back if he lost his mate. 

"What's it about?" Neth's smile was audible. "You. Among other things. I bet they are all dying to meet you and, besides, you need to be formally acknowledged by the clan as Maeghan's mate. As for where we're going…" He paused for effect. "To the Sacred Cave. It's the heart of the Keep, the place where we honour the Goddess and where all the important business of the clan takes place. We'll be there in an hour or two."

They didn't have to go much farther before they had company. At a crossroads between two tunnels, Vaileann was waiting for them, a cool smile on her face. A few steps behind her, a tall, lanky young man with reddish blond hair tied in a ponytail was leaning against the cave wall. He looked… unhappy, and kind of vexed, as if he was carrying a deep grudge but, when he saw them approach, his face lit up in a charming smile. 

"Neth!" He tried to step past Vaileann to greet them, but she held him back with a resolute gesture. His brow darkened with anger, but he obeyed silently.

"Maeghan. We've been waiting for you." Vaileann's voice sounded shrill, and Carver flinched internally. "Let's walk the rest of the way together."

Maeghan nodded agreeably. "Of course. Sirin will probably be waiting for us at the Pillar." 

The two women took the lead, which left the men free to greet each other. 

Nethanel embraced the other man tightly. "Andras. I haven't seen you in ages."

Andras' eyes were closed in pleasure, and he seemed in no hurry to free himself from Neth's arms. "It's been too long. I've missed you."

"Same here." Nethanel took a step back, holding Andras at arm's length so he could look him over. "You look tired."

"Yeah, well." Andras tilted his head toward Vaileann's back with a sardonic smile. "You know how it is."

The look in Nethanel's eyes was full of sympathy, but he didn't reply directly. Instead, he took another step back, so he was standing next to Carver, resting a hand loosely on his hip. "This is Carver. Our new mate."

There was a flash of pain, or maybe regret, on Andras' expressive features, but it was gone in an instant and replaced by an easy smile. "Welcome to the Keep. So, Maeghan got herself a handsome land dweller? Good for her."

Carver nodded, unsure of what to say, but Nethanel spared him from answering by putting an arm around Andras' shoulder and leading him along the tunnel. "Any news?"

The two of them spent the next minutes exchanging gossip and catching up with what had happened since the last time they'd met. Carver was beginning to get bored when they came to another crossroads, this one marked by a huge stalagmite that seemed to have grown from the stone, reaching almost all the way up to the cave's ceiling. 

Five more people awaited them there, a short, sweet-faced young woman with jet-black hair and blue eyes, and two men lurking in the shadows behind her, each with a small child in his arms.

Again, the women embraced first, which gave Nethanel an opportunity to keep Carver in the loop. "Sirin and her mates and children." He spoke in a low whisper. "The blond one is Ulf, the tall, dark-haired one is Torn. They joined the clan about two years ago."

Carver nodded to show he'd understood. Neither of Sirin's two mates seemed to be much of a talker. They both nodded curtly and joined them without a word, glaring at each other as if they had just quarrelled. The children were friendlier and more animated. Ulf was holding the hand of a cute blonde girl that looked to be about four years old, while Torn was doing his best to tame a bouncy little boy with black curls. Both kids were eyeing the newcomers with no small amount of curiosity. Andras and Nethanel smiled at them, but ignored them for the most part, too busy talking to each other. 

Carver suppressed a sigh, and walked a little faster, straining his ears to catch some fragments of the women's conversation. Maeghan and Vaileann seemed to be complimenting Sirin on her children, and she was grinning proudly in response, but then a shadow crossed her features. "I wish I was with child again. It didn't take as long with either of them."

The other two women made small, clucking noises, both of them smiling politely. And yet, Carver had a feeling they resented Sirin's complaints. For a moment he wondered why Maeghan had no children.  _It's certainly not for lack of trying_ .

His ears grew hot when he realized the conversation had moved to a new topic, and they were now discussing him. Sirin must have made some sort of salacious remark that made all three women break into long peals of raucous laughter. 

Maeghan was the first to catch her breath again. "Well, all I will say is that I have no regrets."

"I bet you don't." Vaileann sounded so envious that Carver flinched. "I guess I should find myself an outsider, too. They seem to have more to offer than our own men."

_Ouch_ . Carver was glad Andras hadn't been close enough to hear Vaileann's words, though he doubted she would have cared. It was a pity Revon hadn't gone overboard with him, he thought dryly.  _They would have made a perfect pair._ He chided himself immediately for the uncharitable thought. Maeghan seemed to like Vaileann well enough. Maybe she and Andras just were an unfortunate match. 

Behind him, Torn snapped at Ulf, who growled back a reply. Carver shook his head, silently grateful that it had been Maeghan who'd saved him, and not one of the other merwomen.  _Seems I was really lucky._

He was distracted from his thoughts when they rounded a corner of the tunnel and it opened into a large cave with an impossibly high ceiling and a dry, sandy floor. Natural light entered through countless small crevices in the rock and, at the back of the cave, a waterfall tumbled down the rocky wall, pooling in a small basin below. All over the place, people were gathered in small groups, maybe forty or fifty of them altogether. 

Carver held his breath. Behind him, Nethanel laughed softly. "Here we are. The Sacred Cave."

* * *

Maeghan's heart leapt with joy as she looked around the cave. Here, at the heart of the Keep, was where she felt most at home. Here, she was surrounded by friends and family and could sense the Goddess' presence in the very air she breathed. The Keep was such a good place to live, safe, warm and dry, with rich fishing grounds and hidden from the prying eyes of the landfolk.

Smiling, she made a quick circuit, nodding at all the familiar faces. It seemed everyone had heeded Gwynned's call: Iona was there, with Ghillie and Dairren; Mhairi, with Kristoff in tow; Maeve and Alec; and the older folk of course, Mallaidh and Sawyl and Varlan. They were all straining their necks to catch a glimpse of Carver.  _Well, let them look_ . She had no reason to hide him.

"Maeghan? Can I have a word?" Gwynned was beckoning from the entrance to one of the side tunnels. 

"Sure." Maeghan followed her down the winding path to a little cave where they couldn't be overheard.

"How is Carver settling in?" Gwynned wasted no time on pleasantries. 

"He's fine." Maeghan was surprised that the Clan Mother was taking such an interest. "Taking him out was definitely a good idea, though. I'll have to make a habit of it, I guess."

Gwynned nodded. "Maybe we can work out something that benefits us all. Maybe he could be of help when we trade with the fishermen. Sawyl is getting too old, and we need to find someone else to take over for him. Carver would be far less conspicuous than the rest of us, especially if we find him some land dweller clothes." 

"I kept his. We just have to mend them." Maeghan raised an eyebrow. "You seem to be willing to go to great lengths to make him comfortable. Why are you so worried about him?"

Gwynned sighed. "Adapting to our way of living can be hard, for those who aren't born to it. Just look at Andras."

Maeghan didn't quite manage to hide her frown. "Isn't that a little far-fetched? He was just a boy when you took him in."

"And yet he's having a harder time than most to accept his place." Gwynned shrugged. "But Maeghan…" She took a deep breath. "We need your Carver. Our numbers are dwindling. Now, I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to keep quiet about it. None of the others can know, or they might panic."

When Maeghan nodded, she went on. "Something… isn't right, here at the Keep, hasn't been for a while. The Deep Ones are growing stronger and more aggressive with each year, whereas we.... Something is weakening us."

"What do you mean?" Maeghan was getting impatient. 

"I can't tell you more than I know, and I'm not even sure I should be telling you that much. But there aren't enough children." Gwynned's face was stony. "The last child born to our clan was Sirin's little one, and she was already with child when they arrived. It's... strange. And whatever is going on, it affects the men more than us. Our men are formidable warriors, but they get sick more often than they used to, all of them. It's not just Donagh-" 

Maeghan interrupted her, sounding pained. "How is he?"

Gwynned's expression softened a little, but her eyes were sad. "There's not much more I can do for him, except soothe his pain. Why don't you go and see him, after the ritual?"

"I will." Maeghan sighed. "Why are you telling me all of this, Gwynned?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The older woman smiled wistfully. "My daughters are wonderful mothers and lovely women, but neither of them has the strength to lead this clan when I'm gone. You do."

"But, I'm far too young," Maeghan protested. "And you'll be around for a long time, hopefully."

"All the more reason to start teaching you early." Gwynned's voice remained firm. 

Maeghan nodded slowly. "So, what are you going to do about the crawlers? Should we follow them to their nests?"

The Clan Mother shook her head firmly. "No. They are the Mother's children, just as we are, and we have no more right to attack them than they have to attack us. We defend our caves. That's all."

"But-" Maeghan bit her lip. Something told her this was not the time and place to question Gwynned. Yet it seemed clear to her that sometimes attacking was the best form of defence. 

"Come on. It's time to call the clan." Gwynned got to her feet and embraced her briefly. "They'll be curious about your new mate."

* * *

Nethanel's stomach was buzzing with excitement when the meeting finally began. He expected Gwynned to call them to the front as soon as the ritual greetings and invocations were over but, to his surprise, Vaileann stepped forward first.

Gwynned seemed irritated as well. "What is it, Vaileann? What do you wish to bring before the clan?"

Vaileann's voice was high and clear, but her words shook Nethanel to the core. "I wish to sever my bond with Andras. The Goddess doesn't smile upon our union. Please release us from it."

Next to him, Andras seemed to have frozen in place, his whole body rigid with tension. Had he known about this? Nethanel glanced at him and took his hand, pressing it firmly and wishing he could offer more support. 

There was a moment of silence, then Gwynned raised her voice again, clearly irritated with the proceedings. "This is a serious matter. You cannot just dissolve a mating bond without good reason."

"There's ample reason." Vaileann's fine features contorted in anger. "Our cave is a battle ground, Gwynned. No one deserves to live like this. Please set us free."

But the Clan Mother shook her head. "Not until you find a new mate." Ignoring the crowd's collective gasp of shocked surprise, she went on. "You are a young, fertile woman. We can't waste a chance for the clan to grow. The two of you will stay together, and you'll do your best to get along. If you find someone else to take his place in your cave and in your bed, we can talk again. That is my decision."

Vaileann was pale as a sheet, but she nodded, clenching her teeth. Next to Neth, Andras let out a hissing breath, clutching his hand so hard that his nails dug deep into Neth's palms. Nethanel had never seen his friend so coldly, quietly furious.

But, there was nothing more he could do for the time being, for Gwynned called Maeghan and her mates next, inviting them to step up on the little dais she was standing on. Her face relaxed a little as she introduced Carver to the clan and asked the others to accept him in their midst. 

Everyone murmured their assent, and she turned to address Carver next. "Our clan welcomes you among the merfolk, Carver. Now, are you ready to give your life for your mates, if need be?"

"He's already proven he's willing to do so." Maeghan pointed to the scar on his leg. 

Nethanel nodded gravely. "I owe him my life. There can be no doubt of his courage and loyalty."

Carver blushed but, when Gwynned spoke the words of the oath for him, he repeated them readily. "I swear to protect my mates and our children until my last breath. My life is theirs."

Watching Carver's solemn face, hearing his firm, unwavering voice, Nethanel felt a fierce surge of pride. This was a good mate, one he would gladly share his life with. Taking Maeghan's hand, he repeated his own vows, then held her gaze as she swore to take care of both of them and share the gifts of the ocean with her mates. 

When they had finished and stepped back down from the dais, Gwynned smiled benevolently at them, then straightened up and raised her arms. Her voice was strong and carried to the farthest corner of the Sacred Cave. 

"The clan accepts you as Maeghan's mate and protector. Let us proceed to the inner cave now and ask the Mother for her blessing. You shall be joined in her lap." 

A solemn chorus of voices replied, repeating her last sentence. "You shall be joined in her lap."

Next to him, Carver was twitching nervously. "Neth, what does that mean?"

"Shh, don't worry." He put a protective arm around Carver's shoulder. "There's going to be a ritual. We call it the Joining. Gwynned will ask the Goddess to bless our union with children and to keep us happy together."

"The Joining." Carver's adam's apple was bobbing as he swallowed nervously. "Do you mean we have to… Here, in front of everyone?"

It took him a moment to understand Carver's meaning but, when he did, Nethanel nearly laughed aloud. "By the Goddess, no. We're not barbarians. It's just… a ceremony. A symbolic union."

He pulled Carver closer, smiling to himself. "It's going to be fine. No need to worry, I promise."

  



	8. Joined

**Chapter 8 – Joined**

It was easy for Nethanel to be relaxed about this, Carver thought, as the three of them were led out of the cave by a procession of women. Neth knew all of this, he'd probably done it before. He was born to it, while Carver was a stranger.

They passed through a natural doorway, behind the dais, and he was surprised to find a second, smaller grotto within the Sacred Cave. It was lit by torches and, right in the centre of it, a huge statue rose from the ground, carved from driftwood and painted in lifelike colours. It dominated the space completely, and Carver knew without being told that this was the Water Mother.

The Goddess of the Sea was depicted as a beautiful woman, her long, flowing hair ornamented with starfish and shells and braided with seaweed, her bare breasts full and overflowing with milk. She wore nothing but a crown decorated with crab claws, and an artfully knotted net around her waist. Her legs ended in sweeping fins, and they were spread wide, forming an almost perfect circle around a basin of water set into the cave's floor. It was the size of a large tub, and the water in it was opaque and milky white in colour.

"The lap of the Goddess," Carver whispered as understanding dawned, and Nethanel, who was standing close enough to hear, gave him an encouraging smile.

At a gesture from Gwynned, the three of them stripped naked and climbed inside the pool. The water was surprisingly warm and deep enough to stand in. Without any prompting, Nethanel moved behind Carver and embraced him firmly, offering welcome support.

Gwynned was in charge of the ceremony, of course, but almost all the other women were there, too, surrounding the pool closely. As soon as everyone was in place, they started to sing in a language Carver had never heard before. It had an odd, fluid cadence to it, and it sounded ancient, though he couldn't have said why. Whatever they were singing, it had a hypnotic quality. The world seemed to shrink around him until there was nothing but the dimly lit cave and the warm water surrounding him.

Gwynned knelt down at the pool's edge and lifted a large shell, pouring water all over Maeghan's head and back.

"We have come to you, Water Mother, to ask your blessing for this woman and her mates. Join them in your lap." Once again, Gwynned's voice took on a formal, measured quality. "All life flows from you, Mother, you who were there in the beginning and will be at the end. You are water and blood and milk and seed. You are the mother of mothers, the giver and the taker. All life belongs to you. You are water."

"You are water," a chorus of voices echoed. "Join them in your lap."

Again, Gwynned poured water over Maeghan's naked body. It trickled all over her shoulders and breasts in fine droplets, endowing her skin with its pearly sheen. Maeghan sighed voluptuously, writhing slowly as if it was a caress. She looked incredibly beautiful, sensual and tempting, and when she came into his arms, naked and slippery, Carver's body responded with alarming swiftness. For a moment, he wondered if there was something in the water, or if Gwynned had worked some magic on him.

Whatever the reason, he was hard as a rock, and his cheeks heated up with embarrassment. There was no way anyone could see his reaction, really, what with the milky water reaching up to his chest, and the dim light, and Maeghan's body shielding him from view. But they were all so close, Gwynned standing right next to them, and the other women crowding around the basin. Swallowing, he closed his eyes, fighting back his rising panic.

Behind him, Neth made a small, soothing noise and pulled him closer, letting him feel that he was just as much affected. "It's fine, Carver." His voice was low and warm in Carver's ear, and his hand trailed down Carver's body, closing firmly around him. "There's no shame in this. This is what the Goddess wants."

The women's chorus got louder and more intense, the pitch rising higher and higher. Gwynned got to her feet and raised her arms high over them in a gesture of benediction. Suddenly, there was a finely wrought net in her hands, glistening with moisture, and she dropped it over the three of them with a flourish. It descended upon them, around them, holding and binding them together. From one moment to the next, the singers fell silent and not a single sound could be heard in the cave, as if everyone was holding their breath. The statue of the Goddess was smiling down at them, her green eyes gleaming as if they were alive, and there was a sudden, inexplicable flash of light, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. Or, was he just imagining things? It was over so quickly that Carver couldn't be sure.

When the spell broke and the net was lifted, Carver assumed this was the end of the ceremony, but he was mistaken. The singing started again, and it went on and on for an indeterminate time. Maeghan was humming along, swaying softly in his arms, her face shining with joy and more peaceful than he'd ever seen it. Again and again, all three of them were doused with water, some of it warm and sweet, some cold and briny, all of it mixing in the swirling depths of the pool.

To his relief, as the ceremony ran its course, Carver felt his arousal slowly ebb away. Still, he was grateful when the lights were extinguished at the end, giving them some privacy as they got out of the pool and wrapped themselves in blankets, then got dressed again. Nethanel remained at his side all the time, warm and reassuring.

Maeghan stood a few steps apart from them, her head held up high, a wide smile on her face. She appeared visibly strengthened by the ritual, full of hope and courage and vibrating with a buzzing energy that was incredibly attractive. _She's a goddess in her own right._ The thought came unbidden and Carver chided himself for the silliness of it. And yet, he couldn't quite shake it.

* * *

Carver was deep in thought when they left the inner cave. The experience had been disturbing and invigorating at the same time, a bit like dying and being reborn from the waves. Of course, he hadn't even understood half of what had happened. But there had been something intrinsically feminine about the ritual, and it had made him feel out of place, like an intruder. He wondered if it was the same for Nethanel.

He was about to ask, when Maeghan left the path and entered a small side cave, signalling for the two of them to wait right outside the doorway. Carver couldn't resist peeking in, curious what this was about. The place was clean and well-lit, and a man was lying there on a comfortable pallet by a small fire. He was very dark, with black hair and a beard, and a prominent nose, and he must once have been tall and powerful; there still was an aura of strength surrounding him. But, he was obviously very sick. His skin had a yellowish hue, and he looked gaunt and feverish. Yet, his dull eyes lit up at the sight of Maeghan.

She knelt down at his side and embraced him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. The man smiled and rested his forehead against hers, whispering something Carver couldn't hear. Maeghan sobbed once, then did her best to smile at him through her tears. He traced one of them down her cheek with his fingers, and she leaned into his touch like a cat.

Carver was intrigued. He touched Neth's arm to gain his attention, and indicated the stranger with a tilt of his head. "Who is he?"

Nethanel smiled sadly. "Donagh. He used to be one of our strongest warriors, but he's dying now."

"Maeghan seems to care for him. A lot." Carver wasn't sure how to phrase what was bothering him.

But, Nethanel seemed unfazed. "Yes, they're close. He was her First, you see."

"He was what?" Another unfamiliar term. Carver didn't bother to hide his confusion.

Nethanel explained with his usual patience. "When Maeghan inherited her mother's cave, she was still very young. But, she already knew she wanted me as her mate." There was pride in his voice. "Since we were both hardly more than children, Gwynned thought it would be better for her to spend time with Donagh first, to learn about how a man and a woman should be together."

"What?" Carver was no longer just confused, he was utterly _bewildered_. "So, let me get this straight. You wanted to mate with her, and Gwynned gave her to another man first?"

Nethanel gave him an odd look. "She didn't _give_ Maeghan to him. How could she?" He shook his head. "They spent several weeks together, at one of the outer caves, so Maeghan could learn all she needed and take her place among the adult women of the clan. When she returned, she had… changed. She knew exactly what she wanted." A brief smile danced over his features. "It was good."

Carver swallowed hard. "What if she had returned pregnant?"

Nethanel shrugged, clearly unable to see the problem. "We would have been happy. But, the Goddess hasn't granted her children yet. Maybe because she is too young. Who knows?"

"If all of you got along so well, why didn't she take _him_ as her second mate?" Carver rubbed his eyes wearily. There was so much strangeness today, so much he was struggling to understand.

"Goddess, no!" Nethanel's horrified expression was almost comical. "Donagh was far too set in his ways to consider sharing a cave with us. Him and me, we wouldn't have made good mates. Not enough balance." He sighed when he saw the lack of comprehension on Carver's features. "An older man like him, he'd have expected to lead me, to guide me, to tell me what to do. I would have resented that. Besides, there was no attraction between us, and that's never a good thing. Mates who don't get along make their woman unhappy."

"You mean, like Torn and Ulf?" Carver suggested.

"Those two!" Nethanel huffed contemptuously. "They've been at each other's throats for all the time I've known them. Sirin was with Ulf first, and then she fell head over heels for Torn when she met him on her travels. They joined, although Ulf hated him right from the start." He made a face. "You can see how that has worked out."

Carver glanced at him, suddenly worried, as a thought struck him. "You weren't too happy either, when Maeghan brought me home."

"That was different!" Neth protested, nudging him playfully. "I was mad at her, yes, but only because I thought she'd been rash. Sometimes she doesn't think things through. But I-" He broke off, clearly embarrassed.

"What?" Carver took hold of Nethanel's arm, turning him so they were face to face. "Come on. What were you going to say?"

"I wanted you," Nethanel muttered, almost too quiet to hear, but when he finally met Carver's gaze, his eyes were burning with passion. "The moment I set eyes on you, I wanted you."

Carver took a deep breath, trying to process this information, trying to come up with a witty answer. But, when he saw the flash of anxiety in Neth's eyes, he realized that words weren't what he needed now. Holding his gaze, he pulled him in for a kiss, plundering his mouth greedily, unable to contain his hunger any longer. Nethanel moaned against his lips, and his body felt good and hard against Carver's.

"Goddess!" Neth was breathing hard when they parted. "I can't wait until we get home."

* * *

"Yeah, that much is pretty obvious." Andras' tone was bone-dry, but Nethanel knew him well enough to notice the hint of pain below the sarcasm.

He turned to face his friend, who had walked up behind them unnoticed. How much had he heard? Neth had spoken nothing but the truth, but he didn't want to hurt Andras. Not on top of everything that had happened today.

"Will you be okay?" Instinctively, he reached out to touch Andras' arm, offering comfort as best he could.

But Andras sidestepped him neatly, with a small, bitter laugh. "You heard Gwynned. The welfare of the clan is more important than anyone's feelings. Vaileann will have to put up with me a little longer. But she'll be fine. After all, she has no heart that could be broken."

Nethanel squirmed involuntarily. He couldn't imagine ever talking about Maeghan like that. But, of course, she would never try to get rid of him the way Vaileann had just done with Andras. It occurred to him that he had no idea what Andras wanted. Did he wish for a separation, just like his mate? After all, it wasn't exactly a pleasure to live with her. Or, was he hurt by her rejection? Maybe it was a mixture of both. It was hard to tell.

There had been a time when he would have known. They had been so close as boys, and later, when they'd started to grow into men. They'd spent all their days together, and most nights, too. The memory still made him shiver all over: Andras' hands roaming his body; his hot lips on his throat. Neither of them had really known what they were doing at first. They had experimented together, found out what felt good, what made the other one moan and tremble. Andras had been different back then, full of laughter and mischief, easy-going and relaxed. Nethanel bit back a sigh, wondering how he could help his friend regain some of his former happiness.

Behind him, Carver cleared his throat, and he became aware Maeghan was back, waiting patiently for him. He realized how futile his line of thinking was. There was nothing he could do at this point. He couldn't save Andras, couldn't make his problems magically go away. No matter how much he wanted to.

"We should go." Once again, he reached out for Andras and, this time, his friend didn't flinch away.

There was a world of sadness in Andras' eyes as he returned the embrace. "Goodbye, Neth. Be happy."

Nethanel nodded and followed Maeghan down the tunnel. It hurt to leave Andras behind like this. But, there were others who needed him, others he cared about. Carver and Maeghan were his mates. His duty lay with them.


	9. Settling In

**Chapter 9 – Settling In**

Maeghan couldn't wait to be home either, it seemed, rushing through the tunnels as if there was a race to win. Nethanel smiled fondly at her back, remembering the day of their ritual three years ago, and the night that had followed. They had both been so impatient then, so eager to please each other, and it hadn't mattered a bit that he had been clumsy and impetuous.

Next to him, he could feel Carver's warm, solid presence. The path was narrow, and their bodies kept brushing against each other, and every time that happened, a spark of pure need travelled between them until the air was heavy with tension. By the time they reached the water channel that would take them home, Neth was almost grateful for the cold water that dampened down his arousal a little.

Even so, they just barely made it into the cave. As soon as he met Carver's gaze, there was no holding back any longer. Without exactly knowing how he'd got there, Nethanel found himself caught in a tight embrace, kissing Carver as if his life depended on it, deep and hungry and possessive. Carver's fingers were already busy untying the lacings of his pants, and he gladly returned the favour because he couldn't wait to touch him, to feel him, to run his hands all over that taut, hard flesh.

As soon as Carver's cock sprang free, he was down on his knees, sucking him in, making Carver cry out sharply in delighted surprise. Carver's fist tightened in his hair, and it felt so _good_. But suddenly there was another warm body behind him, a small hand wrapped around his own cock, hot lips trailing down his back. _Maeghan_. She was naked, too, and he simply needed to get his hands on her.

Reluctantly, he let go of Carver to turn around and kiss her, touch her, feel her smooth, soft skin. Carver groaned sharply and dropped to his knees as well, embracing them both. "Neth, please. You're killing me."

Maeghan laughed softly. "I think you need to make up your mind who you want first, love."

"I want-" Nethanel had to pause a moment to collect himself. "Neither. I want to watch the two of you. Together."

Maeghan gave him a sly smile, but she bent her head, wordlessly acknowledging his wish. A shiver raced down his spine. It seemed this was going to be one of those nights where she was content to let him call the shots.

"Tell us, then. How do you want us?" Her words, spoken in a low, purring voice, confirmed his thoughts.

His throat was too tight to speak. Silently, he arranged her on her knees, running his shaking hand all the way down her back, then motioned for Carver to move in behind her.

"Goddess." He couldn't manage more than a whisper, completely overwhelmed as he gazed at the two of them.

Carver was… perfect, there was no other word for it, his strong body taut with barely restrained desire, his cock thick and hard and beautiful in his hand as he guided himself inside Maeghan's willing body. And she was no less gorgeous, her back arching up high as she welcomed Carver in. She looked slim and delicate compared to Carver's bulk, but her breasts were round and firm and the perfect curve of her ass was driving him mad.

They started out in a slow, measured rhythm, in perfect harmony with each other but, as they progressed, their pace became more frantic and Nethanel needed every ounce of discipline he possessed not to take hold of himself. He wanted to last, he wanted to wait his turn, but he was aching, bursting with the need to join them. And Carver went on and on, proving clearly that he had learned a lot more control over the past few weeks. Maeghan was writhing in his grip, her voice hoarse from begging for more until she arched up, keening with lust, her expression transported with joy.

Carver finally let go, gripping her hips tight as he pounded harder into her, and then he was coming, seemingly forever, pouring himself into Maeghan's body, nothing held back. His eyes were rolling back in his head and his mouth was open, his whole face contorted with lust. He was trembling like a leaf from head to toe, his strong muscles twitching, and it was such a beautiful sight that Neth nearly came from watching alone.

But, he wasn't done yet. As soon as Carver pulled back, he took hold of Maeghan, turning her so she was lying on her back and thrusting deep inside her. She whimpered, a sound halfway between pleasure and pain but, when he hesitated, she pulled him in even further, offering him her lips for a long, sweet kiss.

"Neth. Hold me, please." Her voice was brittle. "Oh, Goddess. This is too much. Too much."

He moaned into her mouth, unable to stop his hips from moving, and she echoed the sound, wrapping her legs all the way around him as if she never wanted to let go of him again. She was so warm, so soft, so wet, all for him, and he thought it couldn't get any better than this until he felt Carver's hand on his lower back, warm and supportive.

He broke then, unable to keep up even a semblance of control, letting his body take over, his whole being reduced to _need_ and _want_ and _more_ and _please._ Dimly he was aware of Carver whispering soothing words in his ear, of Maeghan's cries of pleasure, her body throbbing hotly around him, her nails digging into his back, deep enough to draw blood. But all of this was nothing compared to the storm that tore through him, obliterating everything in its way, irresistible, unstoppable, implacable, until he collapsed on top of Maeghan, completely wrung out, unable to move or speak.

They held him tightly, both of them, surrounding him with their warmth until he finally stopped shaking. Neth felt a little ashamed, almost guilty. This should have been about Carver, about welcoming him as their mate. He should have been the centre of attention, not Nethanel.

But, when he tried to apologize, Carver shut him up with a gentle finger to his lips. "Stop it, Neth. It was perfect. You are perfect."

The rough, husky tone of Carver's voice was almost more than he could bear. "I love you. Both of you." He didn't say it aloud, but they read it from his lips.

Carver blushed, then pulled him into another bear hug. Maeghan joined them with a happy smile on her lips, cuddling up against his back. They were warm and heavy and relaxed, all three of them. _Yes. Perfect_.

* * *

Carver followed Nethanel along the winding tunnel with precise, measured strokes, breathing slowly and deeply through the breather, just like Neth had shown him. It still took a bit of an effort, with every instinct screaming at him to hold his breath, and not for the first time he wondered how those things actually worked. Not that it mattered, as long as they did.

Neth had taken him diving almost every day in the past few weeks, patiently working with him to improve his technique. At the same time, he was learning how to find his way through the maze of tunnels and caves that made up the Keep. They'd sparred under water, too, which had been fun, even though he'd been horribly clumsy at first.

But, Neth had been insistent. "Fighting our enemies on land is all well and good, but if we have to go up against the Deep Ones again, you'll have to learn."

Carver sighed internally. There was so _much_ he needed to learn. He badly wanted to prove himself useful, to show Maeghan she'd picked a good mate but, at times, it was frustrating to measure himself against Neth all the time. Neth, who was just as much at home in the water as the dolphins they'd sometimes observe, who handled the trident with so much ease and efficiency, who was so damn _perfect_ at everything. Yet, Carver was nothing if not persistent, if he really wanted something.

And it wasn't all bad, not by a long stretch. He'd been surprised to discover just how beautiful the underwater world was, with intricate rock formations and towering mussel banks, tiny brittle stars glowing in the darkness, and spiky sea urchins. And fish, of course. Whole schools of fish, of all shapes and sizes and colours, gliding through the clear water in a silent dance.

There were dangers, too, down here: tunnels that suddenly narrowed into crevices you could get stuck in; strong currents dragging you deep down; creatures whose touch had to be avoided at all costs. When all was said and done, Carver was sincerely glad for Nethanel's help and guidance.

He followed the other man up a flat slope when Neth suddenly stopped, grabbing his arm and tilting his head to indicate he wanted to show him something. Carver followed him eagerly, his eyes widening when he saw what Neth was pointing out: Arranged in a neat row, partially embedded in the ocean floor, sat four large anchors, all of them completely overgrown with mussels and barnacles. They looked ancient, and he felt a frisson travel down his spine. What had happened here? A shipwreck? A pirate attack? Or something more sinister? _I bet they could tell a tale or two!_

Neth dragged him forward, and they passed a series of small caves on the right. Carver focussed on staying close to the rocks, as Neth had taught him, to avoid the stronger currents. He was concentrating hard, so when something large and silvery whooshed past him, his heart nearly stopped with fright. _Sharks_! He was about to panic when Neth's hand locked firmly around his wrist, pulling him past the cave entrance and up a narrow channel. He swam for his life, and he was still shaking when they reached the safety of their own cave.

"Damn it, Neth!" As soon as he'd spit out the breather, he almost screamed at the other man. "Do you want to get us killed?"

To his surprise, Nethanel was grinning widely. "Relax. They aren't dangerous."

When he snorted incredulously, Neth elaborated further. "Yes, they have nasty teeth. But, they only eat fish, trust me. Funnily enough, they are not interested in tasting human flesh. Even though you do look delicious." His eyes were flashing with mischief, and something else, too, as they roved all the way down Carver's body.

"You-" Carver knew Neth was baiting him on purpose, but he had been genuinely scared and he needed to work out his frustration somehow. With one swift leap, he tackled Nethanel down to the cave floor, biting down hard on his shoulder. "Let's see how _delicious_ you are!"

Neth was laughing giddily, wiggling under him, and there really was no doubt about how this scuffle would end. Already they were grinding against each other, and Neth felt so good, his muscles firm and hard, his skin slippery from the water. Carver was tugging impatiently on his pants when they heard Maeghan's silvery laughter.

"My, this is a nice sight to come home to." She was grinning as well, though she looked a bit tired, and the net she was dragging behind her looked heavy and full to bursting.

"Maeghan!" Neth was on his feet in an instant, embracing her tightly.

Carver felt a brief pang of disappointment, but when he saw Maeghan's happy smile, he immediately regretted the thought and joined Neth. Together, they made their way into the inner cave and got started on their evening routine. After their meal, when they had settled down at the fire, Maeghan nestled into Carver's arms with a relaxed smile while Neth went out to set the traps.

"So good to be back home." She stretched and yawned. "You know, there's something I need to tell the two of you, as soon as Neth is back."

She sounded… different, hesitant, almost shy, but Carver had no time to wonder what this was about. Before Maeghan could continue, Nethanel appeared at the cave entrance, supporting Vaileann, who was swaying on her feet. There was a large patch of angry red skin on her thigh, and she looked pale and frightened.

"Maeghan. I need your help, quick."

Again, she stumbled, and Neth did his best to keep her from collapsing on the floor. She threw him a dark glance and tried to straighten up again, but he ignored her and carefully lowered her down on the floor.

"Vail! Goddess, what happened? And where's Andras?" Maeghan was already digging around in her provisions, producing some salve left over from treating Carver's injuries.

Vaileann flinched in pain as they applied it. "I got attacked by buzzers on the way home. Three of them, and one of them got too close. I didn't expect them, so near my cave. And when I told Andras, he-" She shook her head in irritation. "He just pushed past me and jumped into the water, swearing he'd hunt them down. And he hasn't come back." She swallowed convulsively.

Maeghan's lips were set in a tight line. "How long has he been gone?"

"Almost an hour." Vaileann's lower lip started to tremble. "Why did he do this, Maeghan? It's not like him at all, going off to play the hero. He should be back by now." To Carver's surprise, tears were forming in her eyes. "He should be back."

 


	10. Changing Seasons

**Chapter 10 – Changing Seasons**

"Neth, wait!" Carver rushed after Nethanel who was already halfway to the water's edge, grabbing a trident and a breather in passing. "I'm coming with you, but you need to tell me what we're up against."

"A type of deep sea fish," Neth explained tersely. "We call them buzzers because they sizzle when they touch you. It hurts, like a sting, but if you're fast, you can get away, like Vaileann. But, if there's more than one and they trap you between them, they can paralyze you."

Carver shuddered at the thought. "They hunt in packs, then?"

Nethanel shrugged. "They shouldn't hunt humans at all. And they shouldn't be this far up either. You'll understand when you see them. They belong in the deep sea."

"You think Andras is in danger?" Carver swallowed.

"Not if we get to him in time." Neth looked grim. "Even if he's stuck somewhere, he should be fine until we reach him, unless…"

"Unless what?" Carver's stomach tightened in apprehension.

"Unless he loses consciousness." Nethanel cleared his throat. "Once he's unconscious, he won't be able to breathe properly. And then-"

Carver didn't need to hear more. Biting down hard on his own breather, he followed Neth into the water.

They began their search at Vaileann's cave, not far from their own. Nethanel seemed to have a good idea where to look, heading for a tunnel that was leading steadily downward. The water was colder down here, and there was little light, except from the fluorescent growths on the rocky walls. Carver tried to imagine being hurt and alone and frightened down here, but he couldn't even bear the thought.

There was a fork in the tunnel ahead, and for a moment Neth hesitated, but then he caught sight of something in the left branch. Two swift kicks brought him to an object stuck in a crevice in the rock. Carver's heart sank when he saw what it was. _Andras' trident_. Still, whatever else it meant, it was a clear sign that they were on the right track. Nethanel was going even faster now. The anxiety emanating from him was almost tangible.

Finally they turned a corner and there he was: Andras, his long, lean body floating limply in the murky water. Nethanel didn't hesitate for a moment, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and turning him around to look into his face. Carver saw some of the tension disappear from Neth's shoulders when Andras gazed at them, clearly awake and breathing, albeit laboriously. He couldn't move his legs, though, and his movements were uncoordinated.

The buzzers must have lost interest in attacking him when he stopped moving. But, when Carver followed the tunnel a little further down, he caught a glimpse of them. Just one glimpse, but it made him retreat immediately. Suddenly he couldn't remember why he had ever thought sharks were scary. They seemed positively cuddly in comparison to _these_. The buzzers looked delicate, almost translucent, but their maws were filled with long, pointy teeth, and their large eyes were bulging and sickly white. A soft, greenish light emanated from their misshapen bodies.

Neth was pulling his arm urgently. Together, they took hold of Andras, and managed to manoeuvre him through the tunnel. It was hard work, dragging his inert body with them along the narrow passage, but the hours they'd spent diving together paid off. Carver understood Nethanel's signs and gestures as clearly as if he had spoken aloud, and they were both strong and fit.

They took him to Vaileann's cave, which was closer. Maeghan seemed to have reasoned along the same lines, or maybe she and Neth just understood each other without talking. Whatever the case, the two women were already waiting for them on the shore. Vaileann cried out when she saw the way Andras' legs were dragging behind him. There were small blisters on his ankles, and the skin on his legs was the same angry red as hers.

Maeghan put a calming hand on her arm. "It looks worse than it is. Buzzer burns are painful, but if you use the salve on him, he should be fine. And the paralysis is temporary. He just needs a little rest, and he'll be able to move properly again."

They arranged Andras on a pallet, lying on his back, and heaped all available blankets on top of him for warmth, then tended to his wounds. By the time Maeghan was tightening the last bandage around his leg, he was already able to wiggle his toes a little. The relief on his face was unmistakable.

When there was nothing more to be done, Maeghan and Vaileann wandered off towards the fire, talking in low voices. They seemed to be arguing, but Carver could only hear snatches of their conversation. "… I'm telling you he might do something stupid again. Neth could…" Maeghan lowered her voice when she noticed him listening. Vaileann's face was tear-streaked, but her expression was stubborn. Finally, Maeghan turned away with an exasperated sigh. "At least let him come over to see Neth once in a while. It would do him good."

Nethanel had been holding Andras' hand the whole time, muttering soothing words and trying to stop him from shaking. When Maeghan called for them to leave, he put his arms around Andras, pulling him close with infinite tenderness. They remained like this for a long moment, their foreheads touching, their eyes closed. When Neth finally pulled back, Andras clung to his arm.

"Neth, please don't leave." His voice was strangled with emotion. "Please, I-"

Nethanel glanced over at Vaileann who shook her head, her lips set in a tight line. With a sigh, he carefully disentangled himself, shaking his head and whispering something Carver couldn't hear.

Andras nodded, squeezing his eyes firmly shut to hide his tears. Nethanel tucked the blanket firmly around him, frowning at the way he was trembling.

Vaileann's face was unreadable, and Maeghan sighed again. "I'll get Gwynned to check on the two of you in the morning."

They left without another word. Neth was quiet on the way back and while they were setting up the cave for the night, but when he noticed Carver's unhappy expression, he put an arm around his shoulder and kissed him briefly on the cheek.

"What's the matter?" His voice was rough, but kind. "You look worried."

"I am." Carver looked down at his feet. "About the buzzers, and about Andras, and-"

"And?" Nethanel nudged him gently. "What else?"

"You. And Andras." Carver blurted out. "You'd have preferred him as your mate, wouldn't you?"

Nethanel sighed. "No."

"What do you mean, no?" Carver was confused.

"No," Nethanel repeated. "I wouldn't. I… care for Andras, very much. But I wouldn't want to live with him, and he wouldn't make Maeghan happy. I want you, Carver, and I'm glad you're here."

Carver swallowed, unsure what to reply but, right at that moment, Maeghan returned from the shelter where she had been puttering about, and Neth turned to smile at her.

"I just remembered… What were you going to tell us, before Vaileann showed up?"

Maeghan blushed furiously. "It hardly seems the appropriate moment now, but-" Taking a deep breath, she fixed them both with her large, green eyes. "We're going to have a baby. I'm pregnant."

Carver was too stunned to reply straight away, and grateful when Nethanel took over, embracing Maeghan firmly, his face shining with joy. As a matter of fact, he felt numb with shock, unsure of how to react to this piece of news on top of everything else that had happened that day. Finally, he managed to join them, to share in their smiles, to kiss Maeghan and reassure her that he was happy.

And he _was_ happy, more than he could say. The prospect of finally having a family again made him rejoice deep inside. Maybe it would be a little girl. Maybe she would resemble Bethany. The thought made him smile. But, at the same time, he felt the panic rise inside him. _A child_. He wasn't ready for this, he was too young, he couldn't possibly take on that kind of responsibility.

When his gaze fell on Neth, who had placed one hand protectively on Maeghan's stomach, he relaxed a little. Whatever would happen, he wasn't in this alone. He would have his mate at his side, and Nethanel seemed more than eager to take on this new challenge. Still, Carver remained apprehensive. He knew next to nothing about babies, but he knew that having one meant big changes. Nothing would ever be the same again.

* * *

"When can we have dinner? I'm starving." Carver had to hide a smile at Maeghan's querulous tone.

"Just a moment." He rose and stretched his aching back.

He had spent the last three or four hours chopping up seaweed and boiling it into a thick green paste. As soon as it had dried into hard lumps, he and Neth would grind it into a powdery flour that they used for griddle cakes and many other dishes.

He kissed Maeghan, humming with pleasure when she moulded her body against his and ran her hands down his back. Contrary to his misgivings, nothing much had really changed so far. True, Maeghan was perpetually hungry nowadays, but despite her prodigious appetite, she remained just as slim and trim as ever. Only her breasts had grown noticeably heavier than before and her face was a little rounder, but apart from that it was easy to forget she was pregnant. She hadn't gotten sick either, which was a relief. Best of all, their nights together were just as exciting as they had been, and Maeghan's enthusiasm for making love seemed undiminished.

Neth joined them for a brief embrace, kissing both of them and smiling at Maeghan. "Hungry?"

Without waiting for her answer, he began to set aside some of the paste for dinner, forming it into little patties and dropping them onto the heated griddle.

The merpeople ate well, all things considered, though there were days when Carver missed his mother's stew. But Neth had taught him how to find and prepare the different types of seaweed: the greenish-brown _lawr_ they used for the paste or ate like cabbage with their fish, and the red _dillisk_ that could be eaten fresh or dried. He'd also learned how to kill and gut the fish Maeghan brought home; cod and salmon and others he'd never heard of. All kinds of shellfish, too. Neth knew different ways to fry and cook them, with herbs and spices they'd traded for with the landfolk, and he'd taught Carver his favourite recipes.

They ate in silence. Nethanel added a few more logs to the fire, and Carver was grateful. The cave was getting chilly lately. Maeghan curled up on his lap, gently tracing the gooseflesh on his arm.

"So, what have the two of you been up to today?"

Carver sighed. "Not much. The usual."

They no longer had much time for sparring and swimming during the day. Neth and Carver were spending long hours building up stores for the winter, salting fish and hanging them up to dry on racks in cold, draughty spaces. The biggest and plumpest ones were smoked over driftwood fires in the tiny, circular side cave Neth had set up as a smoking oven. When Maeghan took Carver out to the beach, he no longer spent the day lying in the sun, but wandered around gathering driftwood instead, both to drive away the chill and to ensure they wouldn't run out of fuel come winter.

Yes, the summer was well and truly over. They'd been fortunate this year, with warm, sunny days well into Harvestmere, but this meant they were in for a short fall season. And it was getting colder with each passing day.

* * *

"It's no use." Maeghan looked vexed and tired. She had left only an hour ago, but she was already back, her net empty, her skin blue with cold. "The sea is getting too stormy. Time to hole up."

Nethanel nodded. "Winter is coming. Come on, Carver, there's work to do."

Carver scowled at him from under the heavy blanket he'd wrapped himself in, but then he got to his feet with a resigned sigh. "What do we need to do?"

Just like every year, they made the cave ready for the cold season, closing all the crevices as best they could against the cold sea breezes, and barricading the tunnel to the outer cave which wouldn't be needed in the months to come. The merfolk didn't venture out in winter. Their caves were safe from the wild storms, and those who had stocked their larders well had nothing to fear from the cold season. Nethanel was quite content with their preparations. The three small, dry side caves set aside for provisions were stuffed to bursting. They had plenty of dry wood, and access to their own spring, and Maeghan's cave was warmer and cosier than most. No, they had nothing to worry about.

"I hate winter," Carver muttered under his breath. "I wish it was already over."

Neth made a small, non-committal noise. If he was quite honest, he _loved_ winter. Even as a child, this had been his favourite time of the year, when his mother would be there to listen to him, hold him, cuddle him. Now that he was a grown man, he got to spend long days with Maeghan by the fire, dozing and talking and making love. And it would be even better this year. Her belly had finally begun to grow, and he looked forward to wrapping his arms around its soft curve at night.

Absent-mindedly, he patted Carver's back, mentally shaking his head at the other man's grumpiness. He couldn't fathom why Carver wasn't content. Here, in the safety of his home, with his mates in his arms, dreaming of their child, Neth was the happiest man alive.


	11. Trouble in Paradise

**Chapter 11 – Trouble in Paradise**

Carver was pacing the cave restlessly, over and over, kicking up sand with his bare feet and muttering under his breath. There was a scowl on his face, and the line of his shoulders was tense.

Nethanel sighed. He had looked forward to a long, peaceful winter, but their new mate had turned out to be less than enthusiastic about the close intimacy in the cave. He kept complaining about the cold, but that wasn't all. For weeks now, he'd been irritable, snapping at both of them, the tiniest inconvenience enough to set him off.

Finally, Maeghan had had enough and motioned for him to sit down next to her.

"What is it, Carver? What is making you so unhappy?"

He dropped to the ground, a dark frown on his face. "Nothing."

She shook her head. "It's not _nothing_. Tell me. Maybe we can help you."

"No. No, you can't." Carver's jaws were clenched so hard it looked painful. "I just… I sort of miss the dogs barking, I guess."

Nethanel had never seen or heard a dog in his life, but it was easy enough to understand what Carver was really saying. _He's homesick. He misses life on land._

Maeghan's face was full of sympathy as she tried to embrace him, but Carver shook her off with an exasperated sigh. "Stop petting me. I'm not a puppy. I'm a person."

She didn't reply, but she withdrew her hand, the expression on her face clearly betraying how hurt she was by his reaction.

Her sad eyes only served to make Carver angrier. "Blight it, Maeghan, don't look at me like that. I'm just… tired of it all, I guess."

Nethanel flinched, and Maeghan's face grew hard. "Have you grown tired of us, then, too? Tired of being with us, taking care of us?"

"No, I-" Carver got to his feet and walked a few steps away, hitting the cave wall with his fist and flinching in pain when he scraped his knuckles. "I'm just tired of others making my choices for me. I'm tired of being locked up in this cold, damp cave. I… No one ever asks me what _I_ want."

"You _were_ asked, and you swore an oath!" Nethanel could no longer remain quiet. He wouldn't stand by while Carver was drowning in self-pity. "You agreed to this life freely, and you were fine with it, as long as it was all fun and games. Now you're complaining, because things got a little tougher. But this is nothing, you hear me? It's just winter. It's not famine, or war, or death." Stepping closer, he grabbed Carver's arm hard. "Stop whining, Carver. It isn't that bad, and it isn't all about you. Not anymore."

Carver went pale, then shook off his grasp with a snarl. "Leave me alone."

He turned without looking at them, heading to the back of the cave. Maeghan rose to follow him, wincing as she supported her aching back with both hands, but Nethanel stopped her with a firm hand on her arm.

"Let him go. He needs to work this out by himself."

* * *

Maeghan had almost fallen asleep by the time Carver returned. Night had fallen, and the cave was almost dark. Neth's strong body was warm and reassuring against her back, his hand heavy on her stomach. She loved it when he held her like this, spooned around her as if he wanted to envelop her in his love and protect her from the whole world. But, she missed Carver. She had grown so used to having him there as well, another warm body, a second pair of strong arms to embrace her.

Carver shimmied out of his pants, careful not to make too much noise, and crawled under his own blanket. It pained Maeghan how he kept his distance, an arm's length away from her, as if he wanted to avoid her touch. She bit her lip, feeling her chest tighten, but just then, he sighed deeply, and there was so much pain and distress in that one small noise that it tore at her heart. _He is just as unhappy about this quarrel as I am_. Maybe more. After all, if he was at odds with the two of them, what else did he have?

"Carver." She whispered his name, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

He tensed under her touch but, when he answered, he sounded vaguely hopeful. "Maeghan? I thought you were asleep."

Maeghan shook her head, then realized he couldn't see her in the near darkness. "No," she said softly. "Couldn't sleep without you."

He inhaled tremulously, then turned to face her. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Shhh." Tracing his trembling lip with her finger, she smiled, almost overcome by a sudden surge of tenderness. "You were unhappy and you said something stupid. It happens. You don't need to apologize."

Behind her, Nethanel snorted, and she realized with a start he wasn't asleep either. "Yes, he should. He acted like a jerk."

"Neth!" Part of Maeghan was touched that he felt the need to defend her, but at the same time she was angry at him for attacking Carver, and worried that he would drive him off again.

To her surprise, Carver just chuckled softly. "He's right, Maeghan. I did, and I'm sorry." Tentatively, he reached out to touch Nethanel's arm. "I'm really sorry, Neth."

"Mmmph." Neth did his best to sound grumpy, but Maeghan heard the hint of a smile in his voice. "And how do you propose to make it up to us?"

"How do I-" Carver was blushing, she knew it without needing to see him. "You mean…"

She heard him swallow, felt him shift, and then his hand was on her belly, stroking her shyly. Such a light touch, and yet it was enough to make her shudder all over, enough to evoke all the other times he'd touched her, caressed her, made love to her. Her nipples went hard as pebbles, even though neither of them had touched them yet. Nethanel immediately picked up on her reaction, of course, and responded by pulling her closer. He was half hard against her back, and feeling him made her dizzy with want.

"Carver. Please." She hardly recognized her own voice, hoarse and strangled, as she pulled his head down to her breasts, practically begging for his mouth on her.

He moaned once, a small broken sound that went straight to her core, and then he was licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. Neth's hands were roaming all over her body, following the curve of her belly downward, parting her legs with a sure touch. Maeghan welcomed his touch with every fibre of her being. She was more than ready for them already, tingling with want all over, and she impatiently pushed back into him.

Nethanel laughed softly at her eagerness, lifting her upper leg a little for better access. She half expected him to turn her on her back, but instead, he aligned himself carefully, then slid home in one single stroke. Maeghan gasped hard, and Carver made a small, questioning noise. Taking his hand, she guided it down to where their bodies were joined, letting him feel what he couldn't see. He went completely still for a heartbeat, but then his fingers started to explore, and Maeghan whimpered with pleasure.

It was so amazing, all of it: Neth moving in and out of her, with careful, shallow thrusts; Carver's hardness pressed against her thigh; the sound of their ragged breathing as they nuzzled her neck, her breasts, her shoulders; both of them so close and so warm, their lips and hands almost indistinguishable in the darkness. They made her forget how large and graceless she had felt lately, made her feel cherished, wanted, _loved_.

Neth wasn't going to last much longer, his rhythm faltering, and she was getting close, too, under the onslaught of their combined caresses. Carver's tongue flicked once more against her nipple, the heel of his hand pressed hard against her core, and her body went taut all over. A high-pitched whine escaped her lips, but Carver was there to swallow it in a long, deep kiss.

Nethanel jerked hard against her, his fingers digging into her hips, and then he was sliding out of her, pushing her toward Carver, who didn't waste any time. Spreading her legs wide, he sank into her with a long blissful sigh, careful to keep his weight off her stomach, effortlessly propping himself up on his muscular arms. It took him only a few hard, eager thrusts to finish inside her, but she was still buzzing all over with the force of her climax, and she felt each and every one of them all the way through her body.

Carver buried his face between her breasts afterwards. "I love you."

"And I love you. And you," she added, settling into Neth's embrace again.

He muttered a reply, his face hidden in her hair. They didn't bother disentangling or cleaning up, just pulled the blankets up to cover their bare bodies. Within moments, all three of them were fast asleep.

* * *

Carver woke early in the morning, flinching when he pulled his arm out from under Maeghan's head. She grumbled in her sleep and pouted adorably, then rolled over to her side. He smiled. _So cute_. _So lovely._ He was so utterly relieved that things were right between them again.

He had spent several hours in one of the storage caves, huddled up against the wall and staring at the containers of food. Food he had helped Neth gather and preserve, food that would see them through the winter. Carver wasn't stupid. He knew that out there, in the villages of Ferelden, ravaged by the Blight, people were starving right at this very moment. Farmers who had watched their harvest go up into flames or trampled by the King's armies were watching their children grow paler and thinner with each passing day as their provisions dwindled. He was lucky to be here with the merfolk, warm and safe and well-fed.

If only there was a way to get out of the cave now and then. If only he could meet other people, talk with them, laugh with them. He understood the merfolk's reasons for keeping things as they were but, at the same time, it seemed an unnecessary hardship to be tied so closely to one place. Not that Neth seemed to mind, most of the time. But then, _he_ didn't know any different.

Carver sighed. Neth's earlier words still rang in his ears. _It isn't all about you, not anymore._ They had hit home, painfully so, and even now his cheeks burned with shame. Maeghan was with child, and there was a fair chance it was his son or daughter she was carrying. No matter how hard things got, there was no way he would run away from this responsibility. His mother had brought him up better than that.

On impulse, he put a careful hand on Maeghan's belly, just to touch her, to reassure himself she was there. But then he suddenly froze in place, unsure of whether or not he was imagining things.

No, there it was again: a movement under the skin, a flutter that turned into a nudge. Carver swallowed, feeling tears come to his eyes. It was then that he noticed that Nethanel was stirring, too, blinking his eyes, his mouth opening in a silent yawn. Without hesitation, he grabbed the other man's wrist, raising a finger to his lips to keep him silent. Neth raised a surprised eyebrow, but when Carver placed his hand where his own had been, he went completely still.

"Is that-" Carver mouthed at him.

Neth met his gaze and a sudden, bright smile lit up his face as he nodded slowly. Carver smiled back, his throat too tight to speak. They remained like this for a long while, their gazes locked, their entwined hands resting on Maeghan's stomach. Carver had never felt so close to anyone in his whole life as he did now, to the two of them.

When Maeghan woke, yawning and stretching, they both pulled their hands back, as if by some unspoken accord. But the closeness remained with them, all through the days and nights of that long winter, all through the inevitable quarrels and disagreements. The bond between them was stronger than all that. They belonged together.


	12. Home among Strangers

**Chapter 12 – Home among Strangers**

The boat's planks were slippery under his feet, and the thin rope chafed his palms as he held on to it, struggling to tie it into the complicated knot Sawyl had shown him. Carver cursed under his breath, but in the end he managed, feeling a surge of pride as he looked at his handiwork.

"Well done, lad." Sawyl slapped him on the back with a smile. "We'll make a sailor of you yet."

Carver smiled back, feeling happier than he had in a long time. It was lovely to be out in the open again and to feel the sun and the wind on his skin. Sawyl was a kind old soul, friendly and patient. Trading with the fishermen on the shore had been his responsibility for many years. When Maeghan had asked him to teach Carver how to sail a boat, so the younger man could take over his job, he'd appeared relieved. Carver couldn't blame him. It was going to be hard work, lugging all the boxes of goods onto the boat and then onto land.

Even now, a sizable stack of boxes filled with pearls and whalebone and other treasures they had accumulated was waiting on the beach, ready to be loaded as soon as they could sail. They would be traded for oil and salt and spices, and maybe some oatmeal, too. Fortunately, the merpeople had perfected the art of building waterproof containers.

Sailing was more complicated than he'd expected, and Carver was trying hard to keep up with Sawyl's instructions. Even now, after several weeks of practice, there was still a lot left to learn, but he would have to cope. This one time, the old man would come with him and help him sail the boat, but in the future he would be expected to make the journey on his own.

When they returned to the shore to start loading the boat, Carver took the opportunity to ask more questions. Sawyl wasn't much of a talker, but he did his best to satisfy Carver's curiosity as to where they were going and what they would tell the fishermen. The old man would stick to his usual alias, as a travelling merchant from Ferelden, while Carver would be introduced as his nephew, who had recently arrived from further inland, on the run from the Blight. Carver was fine with that story. It made sense to stick as close to the truth as possible.

"But who will buy our stuff?" Carver couldn't help feeling a bit worried. "Surely the fishermen aren't interested in pearls and the like?"

Sawyl nodded gravely. "You're right about that. Which is why we need to be there in time for the market. There'll be traders from all over the coast."

There was something else on his mind, something he'd wanted to ask for some time. "Say, Sawyl… You were born among the fishermen, weren't you?"

The old man looked surprised, almost wary. "Aye. But that was a long time ago."

Carver nodded. "Yes, but-" He hesitated, unsure of how to phrase his question, but then decided to be blunt. "How did you get used to all of this? The caves, the Goddess, the women being in charge? I mean-" He took a deep breath. "Don't you ever miss your old life? Your home?"

Sawyl shook his head with an indulgent smile. "You're asking the wrong man, lad. When my village got raided, I was fourteen, maybe fifteen. I came back from diving that day, and everyone was gone, the huts burned to the ground." His eyes clouded over with the memory of those long-gone days. "When the mermaids showed up, I thought I'd gone wrong in the head, you know, seeing things that couldn't be true. But they were good to me. They took me with them, fed me, cared for me. They promised to keep me safe in their caves, and they've never let me down in all those years."

It had been a long speech for him, yet Carver couldn't resist asking again. "But what about your people? Didn't you ever want to go back, to see-"

"No." Sawyl shook his head again, with more vehemence this time. "They're not my people. It's bad enough that I’ve had to go out and trade with them all this time. I only did it for my mate, for my clan. The landfolk, they are… different, not like us. I want no part of their life, ever again."

The old man was _scared_ , Carver realized, frightened of a life he no longer understood. An ominous shiver ran down his spine. Would he be the same in thirty, forty years? Would he, too, be afraid to go out, glad to hide in the safety of a cave? Was this really who he wanted to become?

* * *

The village was a fairly prosperous place and the market was bustling with traders, most of them from around Ostwick and Markham. It was good to chat with them, to catch up on the news of the outside world, and Carver thoroughly enjoyed the bartering. The local fishermen were simple folk, happy to see a new face.

The village elder, a grizzled old man called Micah, greeted Carver with a hearty handshake. He seemed to take a liking to the new visitor and, as the afternoon neared its end, he took him aside. "Say, lad, would you consider staying around when your uncle is leaving? There's plenty of empty huts near the seashore, and we could use a pair of strong arms such as yours." Micah winked at him, his expression turning from a fatherly smile into a rather disturbing leer. "See the girl over there, in the blue dress? That's our Emily. My eldest daughter, and she's in need of a husband." He didn't even bother to lower his voice. "What do you say? Wouldn't you love to get to know her better? I bet you'd like to have a sweet young thing like her to warm your bed."

Emily, the girl in question, was about sixteen, pretty and buxom, with a soft round face and fine blonde hair. She blushed furiously at her father's words, but later, when Micah was busy weighing goods, she gave Carver a shy smile. He automatically smiled back. She didn't look overly bright, but she seemed sweet and good-natured and, when she said good-bye, her rolling Marcher accent rang pleasantly in his ears.

He'd declined Micah's offer, of course, as politely as possible, claiming his obligation to look after his aging uncle. Yet, as the boat left the small, natural harbour and the village's roofs disappeared into the distance, he felt oddly conflicted. For a moment there, he'd been almost tempted to say yes. Yes to the promise of a _normal_ life, a life governed by the rules he'd grown up with. It would be so much easier, he thought.

* * *

"Carver! You're back!" Nethanel got to his feet in a fluid motion, embracing him heartily.

Carver swallowed. The trip to the fishing village had left him shaken, and he felt tired and worn out.

"Carver?" Neth repeated his name, sounding worried. "Is everything all right? We've missed you."

"It's all good. I'm just exhausted. And-" Carver was momentarily tempted to tell Nethanel about the girl, but he caught himself before the words left his lips.

He could imagine his mate's incredulous reaction easily enough. _He offered you his daughter? Without even asking her?_ Neth simply wouldn't understand the idea. And really, if he was honest, it had gotten to the point where it was just as off-putting to himself. Why would he possibly want that, a clueless young girl pushed into his arms by her overbearing father? Why should he desire her, when he could have a strong, beautiful woman like Maeghan? A woman who was so sure of herself and so confident when it came to picking her mates and to enjoying her nights with them. A woman, who was carrying their child in her belly, too.

He'd missed her, missed them both, he realized. "Where's Maeghan?"

"She has already gone to sleep. She said she was too tired to wait up for you."

Nethanel looked dejected, but then an idea seemed to strike him. "Hey, I bet you brought plenty of oil." He grinned suggestively and Carver's heart sped up at the sight of his expression. "I think I have an idea."

"Do you, now?" Carver had a hard time hiding his own smile as he dug around until he found the container with the oil flasks. "Here." He tossed one of them over to Nethanel. "Now what?"

"Let me think…" Neth grabbed a blanket and quickly spread it on the cave floor near the fire. "Come here."

Without any further ado, he slipped out of his leggings and stretched out on the blanket. His eyes were dark with hunger as he watched Carver approach. "Goddess, you look so fine."

Carver shivered under his gaze as he slowly peeled off his own pants. Back home, no one had ever told him he was nice to look at. It had always been his brother who commanded all the attention, Revon, with his tattoos and his high cheekbones and his easy grace. No one had ever called Carver handsome or attractive, despite his muscular build. He'd been the clumsy one, the harmless, boring young puppy, his soft eyes and long, silky lashes making him an object of ridicule among the farmers' boys. No, life on land had never really been good to him.

Here, among the merfolk, he'd gotten his fair share of admiring glances, right from the start. He still recalled Neth's words, back at the meeting. _I wanted you. The moment I set eyes on you._

The same appreciation, the same ardent desire, was evident in Neth's expression now, as he took Carver's hand and pulled him down to his side. "Come."

Neth was in no hurry, even though his growing arousal was more than obvious. He took his time tracing every muscle under Carver's skin, his hands warm and gentle, his eyes full of fire. When their lips finally met in a long, passionate kiss, Carver was just about ready to beg.

"Neth, please." He knew he sounded desperate, but he just _couldn't_ wait any longer.

Running a hand fondly along Carver's back, Nethanel drew him closer until they were skin to skin, and it felt amazing, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other. Carver didn't bother to hold back his moan, earning a satisfied smile in response.

With one hand, Neth fumbled for the oil bottle, then pulled back just enough that he could pour a generous amount into his hand. He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure where to start, and then ran his slick hand all the way down Carver's chest and stomach, stopping just short of where Carver wanted him most.

"Damn it, Neth." He arched his back, eager for more contact, but Nethanel shook his head.

"Not yet." There was a hitch to his voice, though, that told Carver he wouldn't hold out on him for long.

His judgement turned out to be correct. Neth didn't bother with a thorough massage, just spread the oil and moved in close again, their bodies sliding against each other in a slow, sensuous dance. Carver loved every bit of it, the scent of Neth's hair as he buried his face in the long strands, the heat of his skin, the slight scrape of his chest hair. It was intoxicating and he was torn between wanting it to last forever and his growing need for more.

Apparently, the latter feeling won out for Neth. Once again, he reached for the flask, and this time he went straight for the kill, wrapping his hand around both their cocks, generously coating them in oil before he began to move. Carver gripped his shoulders hard, almost whining at the sheer perfection of it. _So good, so sweet, so unbelievably hot_.

Another long, sloppy kiss completely robbed him of the ability to think coherently and, before he knew it, he was thrusting into Neth's hand, unable to keep his hips still any longer. Every thought of his was focussed on _harder, faster, more_ \- until it was too much, the pleasure too intense to withstand any longer, and he came, hard and sudden, crying out sharply as he spilled all over Neth's stomach.

Nethanel groaned hoarsely, but when Carver reached for him, he shook his head. "No. I need-" He laughed once, rough and wild. "More."

Carver nodded. Yes, of course. _More_ , more friction, more heat, more everything. "Show me what you need," he breathed.

With a strangled sigh, Neth slid a little lower, spreading more oil on Carver's thighs and gripping them tight as he thrust between them. Carver gasped, halfway between lust and surprise, then instinctively pressed his legs harder together, drawing a long moan from his mate. And then Neth was moving, fast and urgent, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, his fingers digging deep into Carver's flesh. When he came, it was messy and awkward, but Carver didn't care a whit because, at the same time, it was so very, very hot.

"Goddess, _Carver_!" Neth was breathing fast and hard, trembling all over, a fine sheen of sweat on his face. "You are incredible."

Carver's heart constricted almost painfully. "Neth."

There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn't have the words, didn't know how to express his feelings better than by saying Neth's name, over and over again. Somehow this one syllable would have to suffice, and somehow it did. Nethanel met his gaze and his fingers intertwined with Carver's. _Yes_. Here, he was wanted, needed, loved. Unlikely as it seemed, this was the place where he had found his mates. People who accepted him, just as he was, just Carver, nothing more, nothing less.

This was home.


	13. What Counts

**Chapter 13 - What Counts**

Maeghan had left early in the morning as usual but, before she ‘d gone, she'd taken some time to welcome Carver back, holding him as tightly as her belly allowed, and ruffling his thick hair. "So good to have you back," she'd whispered in his ear, and her words had warmed him inside.

Carver did his best to settle back into the usual routine at the cave. Nethanel seemed preoccupied, though, and when he asked what was bothering him, he sighed. "I was just thinking about the next meeting of our clan. It should be soon."

"Is there a special reason?" Carver had mixed feelings about meeting the others again, especially Gwynned. He still felt intimidated by her presence.

"We usually meet at the end of winter, to celebrate spring together." Neth chewed his lip, lost in thought. "It will be good to see Andras again. I just hope-"

He broke off, and Carver cleared his throat. "You worry about him."

"I do." Nethanel met his gaze steadily. "Andras needs me, Carver. He needs us. He has no family to take care of him, and Vail-"

Carver raised a surprised eyebrow. "Why not? Why doesn't he have a family?" he repeated, when Neth didn't answer immediately.

Nethanel sighed "He wasn't born at the Keep. Gwynned found him on a sandbank when he was maybe eleven or twelve years old."

"What do you mean, she found him on a sandbank?" Carver frowned. "Children don't just show up in the middle of the sea, out of nowhere."

"This one did." A deep crease had appeared on Neth's forehead. "Gwynned thinks he was abandoned by pirates. Whoever they were, they left him for dead. He was in bad shape when she found him, almost starved and feverish."

Carver swallowed. "What happened? Did they capture the ship he was traveling on with his family?"

Neth shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe he was their cabin boy, and they no longer had any use for him. Andras doesn't remember. He has no memory of the time before we found him."

"Which may be a blessing," Carver muttered.

Neth nodded. "Anyway, this was around the time my mother died and I went to live with Gwynned, so Andras and I practically grew up together."

"What about your siblings?" Carver's curiosity was piqued. Nethanel didn't mention them often.

"We were split up between different caves, to ease the load for everyone." Nethanel's face was closing up again. "Shelagh took care of Tam and Mallaidh of Lilah. It was... a bad time."

_For you and Andras both, probably_. Carver nodded silently. In light of all this, the bond Neth and Andras shared was a lot easier to understand.

"But you got through it, and you cared for each other," was all he said aloud. "That's what counts, right?"

Nethanel nodded. "You're right. And that's why I need to see Andras as soon as possible."

* * *

Vaileann looked her usual self when they met her in the tunnels, but when Nethanel set sight on Andras, he had a hard time hiding his shock and dismay. His friend had grown thin to the point of gauntness during the winter, and there was a deep-seated sadness in his eyes that was painful to see. _Goddess! It's almost as if something is eating at him from inside._

Neth embraced him tightly, feeling him shiver under his hands. _I need to talk to Maeghan. This is not right._ He tried hard to cheer Andras up during the rest of their way together, and he was relieved to see him smile, even if it was a ghost of his former cocky grin. Carver tried to be kind, too, ignoring Andras' tart remarks and making an honest effort to listen to his complaints. His dark eyes were full of compassion, and Neth was more grateful than he could say.

When they arrived at the cave, all thought of Andras was swept aside, though, as pretty much everyone present gathered around Maeghan, their faces bright with joy as they inquired how she was doing. The women especially fussed over her like mother hens, eager to touch her rounded belly, as if they hoped her condition was contagious.

"Maeghan." Gwynned was there, too, her expression happier and more relaxed than Nethanel had seen it in a long time. "I am so glad the Goddess has finally blessed you."

Maeghan beamed back. "So am I."

Neth exchanged a quick glance with Carver. His mate seemed a bit overwhelmed by all the commotion but, when he took his hand, Carver squeezed it firmly, the hint of a smile playing around his mouth.

They followed Maeghan further in but, near the entrance to the inner cave, Gwynned signalled for them to stay behind as the women proceeded into the sacred grotto. Neth obeyed, realizing they had no place in this.

"What is it?" Carver was a bit slower on the uptake. "Why do we have to wait?"

"They are having a special ceremony for her, in the lap of the Goddess," Nethanel explained. "It's a thing the women do, to prepare her for the birth of the child. We can't be there."

"Why not?" Carver sighed, obviously not expecting an answer. "Ah, well. I guess that's just the way things are, am I right?"

Neth nodded and they settled down at one of the fires, talking quietly. It wasn't long until the women returned.

Gwynned was leading Maeghan back to them, raising a hand in benediction. "Go with Bebhionn's blessing, child. May she watch over you and grant you a safe and easy birth."

"Bayvin?" Carver whispered into his ear. "I thought there was only one Goddess?"

"Bebhionn." Neth corrected him. "There's just one Water Mother, but she has many names. This is what the women call her when they ask for her help in childbirth."

Carver sighed again, looking resigned. Nethanel smiled to himself. _He has still so much to learn. Still, he's one of us now._ Or, at least he would be, when the child was born.

The remainder of the day passed with good food and companionship, and at the end of it, they returned to their cave and to their usual activities.

When Nethanel mentioned Andras to Maeghan, she brushed him aside, though. "There's nothing I can do, Neth. I wouldn't be doing him any favours by getting involved in what should be between him and Vail."

Time passed, and Maeghan still went out daily to comb the sea. Her belly was large and unwieldy now, but she was strong and healthy, and when Carver complained, she claimed the sea did her good.

"Don't worry, Carver." Her smile was irresistible. "It's actually much easier to move under water. I look like a whale anyway, so I might as well live like one."

Nethanel knew it was pointless to argue with her. He trusted her to know what she was doing and, besides, he knew they would come to be grateful for all the food she gathered now. Like every responsible woman, Maeghan was taking care to provide for the weeks after the baby's birth, when she would be unable to leave the cave. Of course Sirin and Vail would help them out, but Maeghan was far too proud to rely entirely on their help.

So she went out, every morning, until that day in late spring when she wasn't gone at her usual hour, and Nethanel found her crouching near the fire. Her lips were pressed in a tight line and her gaze turned inward, as if she was listening to something.

"Carver!" Neth managed not to sound panicky, but his heart was beating wildly.

Carver was there in a heartbeat, and Nethanel didn't even have to tell him to go get Gwynned. Without hesitation, he grabbed a breather and went off.

"Maeghan." Neth wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulder. "Anything I can do?"

She shook her head. "Just hold me. It's not that bad, really. I think it will be a while, until-" She went pale again. "Or maybe not."

Time seemed to crawl until Carver returned with Gwynned close behind him. They had brought Sirin, too, and it was with utter relief that Nethanel turned Maeghan over to the other women's care. They took her to the shelter and made her as comfortable as possible, humming a soft, lilting tune as they went about their business.

Carver was pacing the cave, looking lost and worried, until Nethanel stopped him with an outstretched arm, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Shhh. It will be all right. Gwynned knows what to do."

Just then, Gwynned barked at them to go and make sure there'd be enough freshly boiled water and warm blankets, and they both set to the task, glad for something to do. Now and again Neth glanced over at Maeghan with a new sense of admiration for her strength. She was holding up marvellously, breathing deeply, just as Gwynned told her, crying out only once or twice when a particularly strong contraction hit her.

In the end, it didn't take long. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since the women's arrival, but the sun hadn't even reached its highest point when Gwynned called his name again.

"Nethanel. Come here. She needs someone strong to hold on to."

Following her directions, he knelt behind Maeghan, holding her upright, flinching briefly when her nails dug into his naked arms. Nethanel was glad he could help, and even gladder he didn't actually have to see too much of what was going on. Gwynned was muttering words of encouragement while Sirin gently massaged Maeghan's belly, both of them fully focussed on what was happening down there, between her legs.

Maeghan was visibly exhausted, her head sinking back against his shoulders as she struggled to push.

"Come on, love." He was there to lend her strength. "You can do it."

She nodded once, determined, and he felt her muscles tighten again, all over her slim body.

"Well done!" Sirin beamed up at them. "The head is out. One more small push and you're done."

Maeghan sighed deeply, then tensed again. Gwynned cried out triumphantly as she caught the baby in her arms. "It's a girl."

Nethanel felt dizzy with relief, still holding Maeghan as tightly as he could. She lay back in his arms, exhausted but smiling, while the women bathed and examined the little one.

"She's perfect," Gwynned finally announced. "A fine, healthy child. Nethanel?" She held the baby out to him.

He let go of Maeghan so the women could take care of her, cleaning her up and dealing with the afterbirth. Once again, he was glad he didn't have to look too closely.

The baby in his arms made a small noise, and he bent down to kiss the little head, his heart filling to the brim with a sense of wonder. _So soft_. And she smelled so good! He smiled to himself, savouring every moment. _Our child_.

* * *

Carver had kept out of the way, feeling useless and slightly queasy. Some part of him was jealous of Neth for being able to help, but mostly he was glad no one had asked anything of him. _I probably would have made a mess of it._ Now he finally dared approach them again.

"Carver!" Neth was grinning widely, holding the baby up for him to see. Gwynned had wrapped her up in swaddling clothes, so all he could see was a shock of dark hair and a red, scrunched-up face with big blue eyes that reminded him of Bethany. Carver glanced into Neth's eyes, stormy grey like the sea on a cold winter day, then into Maeghan's green ones.

"I wonder whose child she is." He must have muttered the words aloud, because Maeghan gave him an odd look.

"What do you mean? She's mine. She's ours." Maeghan shook her head. "And she needs a name."

"You could name her for your mother," Sirin suggested. "That's what I did with my little Mari."

"Eilidh." Gwynned, who had been busy wrapping up the afterbirth in an oilcloth painted with strange symbols, raised her head. "Yes, that would be a fitting tribute to her memory. Your mother is still sorely missed by her clan."

To Carver's surprise, Maeghan made a face and didn't answer. It was obvious she wasn't enthusiastic about the idea.

Gwynned sighed. "Then what about _her_ mother? Meraud? I remember your grandmother well. She taught me so much and she was a fascinating woman, fierce and lively."

Maeghan nodded slowly. "Meraud. That's a good name. I like it."

"Then that's what she'll be called." Gwynned rose to her feet. "Don't hesitate to send for me if you need anything, my dear, or if you are not well. And get some rest now. Come, Sirin."

Carver watched them leave with a strange mixture of relief and worry.

"Carver." Neth's voice tore him out of his thoughts. He was smiling, holding out the baby to him. "Do you want to hold her?"

"I… yes, of course." He swallowed hard. _What if I drop her?_ But, then he took a deep breath, and carefully took the bundle from Neth's arms.

The baby was light in his arms, like a feather, and when he gingerly touched one of her fingers, his own hand looked huge in comparison. It seemed impossible that a human being could be so _small_. Such impossibly tiny fingernails, so delicate as to be almost transparent! And yet, when Meraud wriggled in his arms, he marvelled at the strength and energy contained in this little body.

Her eyes were unfocussed, staring into space as if she could see something he couldn't. She was so new to this world, still a stranger, and yet Carver already knew he would never love anyone more than he loved her. Even now, at this very moment, his heart belonged to her, completely and forever. This was his child, their child, and he would protect her and take care of her until his dying breath. Nothing else could possibly be more important.

_This is what counts._

 


	14. The Wanderer

**Chapter 14 – The Wanderer**

The cave was quiet this late at night, the low rumbling of the sea and the crackling of wood in the fire the only noises that could be heard. Even the baby was silent except for the occasional grunting and gulping as Maeghan nursed her to sleep, a soft smile on her face. Carver was yawning contentedly, thinking how peaceful it all was, when Neth suddenly cried out sharply.

"What the-" He was staring right past Carver, in the direction of the cave entrance, his face pale with shock and anger. 

Before Carver could react, he'd already jumped to his feet and grabbed his trident. "Who are you? And how did you get past our traps?"

Carver swivelled around, just in time to see a man emerge from the shadows.

"Relax, _mi amico_." His voice was heavily accented, smooth and rich. "If I’d wanted to harm any of you, you'd already be dead."

Nethanel's face darkened, but he didn't reply, just clutched his weapon more tightly. The intruder made a clucking noise with his tongue, but he did hand his weapons over to Neth with a nonchalant shrug. He had no trident, but two long, curved blades that he was wearing on his belt, safely sheathed, but within easy reach.

"Our traps?" Neth reminded him, accepting the belt with a frown, and tossing it into a corner.

The stranger smiled widely. "Oh, those were yours? Not bad, but I can show you how to do better." 

Carver kept a close eye on the man, more impressed by his entrance than he cared to admit. Their… guest was one of the merfolk, too, that much was obvious from his clothing and from the way he moved, lithe and sinuous, as if he was gliding through water. But his skin was golden brown, much darker than Maeghan's or Neth's, offering an enticing contrast to his long, blond hair.

"I am looking for a woman called Maeghan." The stranger clearly had trouble pronouncing her name. 

"That would be me." Maeghan hadn't even moved so far. Clutching Meraud safely to her breast, she regarded the man calmly and fearlessly. "Who are you, and what is your clan?"

He smiled charmingly and executed a deep, graceful bow. "Zeveriano, at your service, but you may call me Zev. You won't have heard of my clan. I'm from up North, from Antiva."

 _Which explains the accent_. Carver eyed the stranger with distrust, but Maeghan seemed unfazed. "Why are you looking for me?"

Zev knelt before her in the sand, taking a small object from his belt and passing it to her. "Someone asked me to give you this."

Maeghan took the thing from his hands. It was a large, heart-shaped shell, Carver saw, but it was broken, with a large chunk missing at the bottom. Nevertheless it made Maeghan's face light up with sudden joy. "Fearghas!"

Zev smiled warmly at her. "Yes. Your brother sends his love, _bellissima_. And he says to tell you to stop worrying about him. He's found a new home and a lovely mate and he's very happy." 

Maeghan beamed back. "Thank you, stranger. That is welcome news indeed."

"And you believe him, just like that?" Nethanel was positively growling. "Anyone could make up a tale like that. For all we know, he killed Fearghas and stole the token."

But Maeghan shook her head decisively. "No. See this?" She held up the shell, showing him where the bit was missing. "We agreed on this before Fearghas left. If the shell is missing this particular piece, it means he is the one who sent it and the messenger is telling the truth." She turned her attention back to Zev, but before she could speak again, the baby let go of her breast and whined querulously, clearly irritated with all the commotion.

Zev raised both hands in an apologetic gesture and rose to his feet. "I am sorry. Please don't let me interrupt you." 

For a little while, the cave fell silent as little Meraud latched onto her mother's breast again and drank her fill until she finally began to doze off. Zev waited patiently, standing at ease before Maeghan and watching her nurse her babe with no trace of embarrassment. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the sight.

Carver had noticed it before, the way the mermen were a lot more relaxed about the whole nursing thing than the landfolk. He himself had been reluctant to touch Maeghan lately. For some reason, he kept feeling that her breasts were off limits for him now, that they belonged to the baby, not to him. He missed them terribly, but ever since she'd flinched away from his touch, a week after Meraud's birth, he hadn't dared to try again. Not so Nethanel. He was… enthusiastic about Maeghan's curves, more so than ever before, and eager to touch and taste her.

The stranger, too, was anything but put off, smiling as he waited, his obvious appreciation of her beauty shining from his amber eyes. Finally, Maeghan handed the sleeping child over to Nethanel, who took her to the shelter, then returned, still watching the stranger with no small amount of distrust.

Zev cleared his throat, unfazed by Nethanel's scrutiny. "Of course, what Fearghas failed to mention was just how stunning his sister is." Carver wasn't sure how the Antivan did it, but he made the compliment sound utterly sincere and incredibly suggestive at the same time.

Maeghan laughed softly and looked up at Zev, finally giving him her full attention. He was completely relaxed, basking in her admiration, and Carver had to admit he was well worth looking at. His body was perfectly formed, slim and graceful, with just the right amount of muscle rippling under smooth, golden-brown skin. There were tattoos all over his upper body, swirling patterns that followed and emphasized the firm planes of his chest and abdomen.

He was wearing leggings, like they did, but his were made from a slightly different material, copper-brown rather than green, and even more supple and tight-fitting. _Really, he might as well be naked. But then, he has nothing to be ashamed of._ The pants sat low on his hips, drawing attention to the perfect V of muscle along his lower torso, and the golden trail of hair leading downwards from his navel. Maeghan's gaze didn't stop at his waist, her eyes widening as it travelled lower. She gave a soft, appreciative whistle through her teeth, and Zev chuckled.

"I take it you like what you see?"                          

Maeghan's voice was deep and sensual. "I do. Who wouldn't? However..." She leaned back a little to squint up at him, wincing when the movement made her shoulders ache. "It cannot possibly have escaped your notice that I already have two mates. I'm not sure adding a third would work out all that well."

Zev grinned. "Ah, _bellissima_ , I'm not looking to be anybody's mate. I enjoy my freedom far too much. But maybe there's a way I can repay you for your hospitality?"

Maeghan's breath hitched a little. "And how precisely would you go about that?"

His grin widened as he gracefully dropped to his knees behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders in a gesture just this side of possessive. "You look tense. I know exactly what to do about that."

"You do?" Maeghan accepted the stranger's touch, though her expression remained hesitant.

"You'll find that I'm very talented when it comes to... massages." Zev's voice was heavy with innuendo. "Where do you keep your oil?"

She indicated the box with a small tilt of her head, and Zev helped himself to the small flask, pouring a generous amount over her shoulders and proceeding to run his hands down her back. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, and even more obvious how much Maeghan enjoyed his touch. Within minutes, she was sighing with pleasure, her whole body going limp under his hands, her eyes half-closed in bliss.

So far, the massage had been... not exactly harmless, but still avoiding anything blatantly sexual. And yet, Carver was not sure he could stand watching them any longer.

"Do we really have to put up with this?" he hissed angrily in Nethanel's ear.

Neth shrugged, but his unhappiness was tangible. "She's within her rights. There's no rule that says she has to ask our permission."

"But…" Carver's hands were itching to pull the stranger away from Maeghan. "She's _our_ mate."

Nethanel nodded, and Carver noticed his hands were clenched into tight fists. "It's her body, though. Her body, and her decision, if she wants to give it to him."

They were interrupted by Zev's silky voice. "You know what would be even more relaxing, _cara_?"

When Maeghan made a small, questioning noise, he slid his right hand down to her breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple, which immediately hardened under his touch. She moaned in surprise, and he cupped her breast in his hand, kneading softly and at the same time biting down hard on her shoulder. Maeghan's whole body responded, going taut all over, and she cried out sharply.

Carver was on his feet in a heartbeat but, before he could intervene, Maeghan had already gripped Zev's wrist and pulled his hand away. "Enough. It's been fun, and I won't deny that I'm tempted." She did sound regretful, but her tone was firm and there was a determined set to her mouth. "If things were different, I might say yes. But my mates-"

Zev shrugged, glancing over at them with heavy-lidded eyes. "I didn't mean any disrespect to them. They are more than welcome to join us."

Carver held his breath at the images invoked by the stranger's casual remark.

But, Maeghan shook her head and got to her feet. "I don't think that would work."

The Antivan lay back with a sigh, resting his head on his crossed arms, not bothering to hide his evident arousal. "That's entirely up to you, of course. My apologies if I offended you. That was not my intention."

"Accepted." Maeghan nodded calmly. "You are welcome to stay for the night, since it's late, but I think it will be better if you leave us tomorrow. I can point you toward a few other caves if you don't want to return to Antiva straight away."

Zev shrugged. "I don't plan on returning there any time soon. But, I'll gladly meet the other women of your clan. Especially if they are as beautiful as you. Who knows, maybe they'll appreciate me more." He winked at her and rolled his hips in a slow, suggestive motion.

Maeghan rolled her eyes at him in exasperation, but at the same time she was clearly struggling not to smile. Carver exchanged a quick glance with Neth. _He really needs to leave as soon as possible._

* * *

The Antivan happily accepted their offer of dinner, and he was full of praise for Nethanel's cooking skills. Neth smiled at his compliments, but Maeghan wasn't fooled. He wanted the stranger gone, and so did Carver. She couldn't really blame them. Zev was one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen, but there was something provocative about his attitude, and she doubted he would make a good mate in the long run.

Still, she enjoyed his company, and she was eager to know more about Fearghas. He was living with a woman called Oriana, according to Zev, who waxed lyrical about her beauty and her character. Apparently she had given birth to a son about a year ago. Maeghan smiled to herself. It was good to hear that her brother was in good hands. She had missed him when he'd left, though she couldn't blame him for trying his luck elsewhere. After their mother's death, Maeghan had had little time for him, and none of the women of their clan had shown any interest in him.

Nethanel had listened patiently, but now he fixed the stranger with his clear, grey eyes. "When Fearghas came to your clan, did he have company? A woman named Lilah?"

Of course. Maeghan felt almost ashamed that she hadn't thought to inquire about his sister. Lilah had left at the same time as Fearghas, and it was very possible they had gone to Antiva together.

But, Zev shook his head. "No, _mi amico_. He was on his own."

Neth nodded, his disappointment evident. Maeghan placed a gentle hand on his wrist and he smiled absent-mindedly at her.

With a sigh, she got to her feet. "Time for bed." She nodded at Zev. "I'll take you to my friend Vaileann's cave tomorrow, early in the morning."

The Antivan took the blanket Neth offered him with a grateful nod, stretching out on the ground near the fire. He hadn't asked for a bed, and Maeghan figured he wouldn't miss it. _He's a wanderer. He must be used to sleeping rough._ Her mother had warned her of men like him, restless and always on the move, unwilling to bond with a single woman. Suddenly, she was glad she hadn't given in to his earlier advances. _Far too many complications_.

As things were, all was well, and he would be gone tomorrow. She wondered what Vail would make of him.


	15. Realizations

**Chapter 15 – Realizations**

"Enjoy your meal, everyone. And thank you for coming." Maeghan felt a warm buzz of satisfaction as she looked around the cave.

It felt good to have her friends and their mates over, good to have a chance to express her gratitude for their help in the weeks following Meraud's birth. Now that the little one was almost three months old, Maeghan was pretty much back to her usual daily routine of going out and combing the sea. True, she didn't get as much sleep as she would have liked, and she had to come back to the cave around noon every day to nurse the baby. But those were minor inconveniences that would pass soon enough.

Sirin and Vaileann smiled back at her. Sirin's children, Mari and Glyn, were already busy sampling the delicacies Neth and Carver had prepared, chattering happily, their faces smeared with food.

"Thank you for inviting us, Maeghan." Vaileann looked happy and relaxed, more so than she had in a long time.

When she had shown up with both Andras and Zev at her side, Maeghan had been only mildly surprised. The Antivan was attractive and, all things considered, it wasn't so strange that Vail had succumbed to his charm.

"So, where is your little one, Maeghan?" Sirin sounded more than just a little wistful. "The children can't wait to see her."

"Still asleep, probably." Maeghan craned her head to look into the shelter. "Neth said he'd be along with her as soon as she wakes up."

And here he was, emerging from the shelter with a proud smile on his tired face, carrying the baby in his arms. Mari and Glyn squealed with excitement, and he went down on one knee to show her to them. They bombarded him with questions. "Can she speak?" – "What's her name?" – "Is she a good swimmer?" Neth answered them all patiently, his lips twitching as he hid his grin.

Suppressing the urge to embrace him and cover him in kisses, Maeghan turned back to her guests. It was good to have time to chat with the other two women. The men seemed to enjoy themselves as well. Neth had greeted Andras with a hearty embrace, visibly relieved to see his friend looking better. Andras had gained some weight again, and his expression was no longer as harried as before. Even Torn and Ulf were a little more companionable than usual, sharing stories of their travels, which Carver listened to with rapt attention. Zev had a few tales of his own to tell, but he kept to himself most of the time, watching the others quietly.

When the afternoon neared its end, Sirin and her mates said goodbye. The men gathered the children in their arms and carefully checked their breathers before they left.

"Well, I guess we should be going, too." Vail stretched and rose to her feet, but Maeghan shook her head.

"Why don't you stay? There's no rush. You can always spend the night here, you know."

"You sure?" Vaileann hesitated briefly, but then she shrugged. "Oh, why not? Andras, Zev? We're staying. Maeghan invited us."

Yes, she was definitely a lot more easy-going than she used to be, Maeghan thought, as the men muttered their approval. _Interesting._ It rather made her want to find out more.

She motioned toward the shelter. "Come along. It will be nice to have some more time to talk, just the two of us."

"True." Vail followed her inside. "We haven't seen each other in so long."

"So, how are things going with Zev?" Maeghan asked casually, as soon as they'd made themselves comfortable.

Vaileann chuckled softly. "Frankly, Maeghan, I have no idea why you let him go. If you knew what you were missing... He is _amazing_. Nice, and gentle, but…" She closed her eyes with a lazy smile. "Just rough enough to satisfy me, if you know what I mean."

"And Andras didn't satisfy you?" Maeghan inquired carefully. "I mean, are you saying the two of you didn't-"

"Oh, he did his duty all right." Vaileann sighed. "Of course we slept together. After all, Gwynned made it very clear what she expected of us. Besides, I have my needs, and Andras is skilled enough. He just never really seemed all that much into it. Whereas Zev…" Once more that dreamy expression appeared on her fine features.

Maeghan shrugged. "He _is_ very handsome. And I don't doubt that he knows what he's doing in bed. But, you do realize he's not for keeps, right? He's a wanderer. Maybe he'll be around for a few months, but not forever."

"So what?" Vaileann snorted contemptuously. "Goddess, Maeghan, it is so good to feel _wanted_ for once. Not everyone is as lucky as you." She glanced out through the shelter's door opening, to where the men were sitting at the campfire. Neth had placed his hand casually on Carver's lower back, stroking him in small circles. "You have two mates who adore each other and who love nothing better than pleasing you. Whereas I-"

"Oh, Vail." Maeghan didn't have to make an effort to sound sympathetic. "I get that, I really do. Still, it doesn't seem right for men to just come and go as they please. Zev may be an interesting diversion, but in the long run-"

"I told you, I don't care!" Vail sounded almost desperate. "I want some love _now_. I don't want to wait until Gwynned approves of my choice. She's driving me mad with all her talk about _tradition_ and the _old ways_. Who cares about that stuff anyway?"

"And what about Andras?" Maeghan bit her lip.

"What about him?" Vaileann huffed. "He has what he always wanted. Zev is happy to fulfil his needs,too, and he doesn't have to bother with me anymore."

Maeghan shook her head, more troubled by Vail's cynical attitude than she let on. "I'm just worried about you. Once Zev decides toleave, what are you going to do?"

Vaileann shrugged. "That day may never come. Maybe he'll change his mind. And even if he doesn't…" A happy smile spread over her face. "I am not sure yet, but I didn't bleed this month, Maeghan, and if I'm not very much mistaken-"

"Really? That's wonderful!" Maeghan beamed back automatically, but as she embraced Vaileann, her mind was racing.

It seemed Vail had gotten pregnant the moment she slept with a stranger, a man from outside. Just like she herself had waited for years, until Carver came along. Suddenly several snatches of that conversation she'd had with Gwynned shortly after his arrival came back to her mind. _We need your Carver…_ _It affects the men more than us... Sirin was already with child when she came here._

Maeghan swallowed, remembering Sirin's sad face, earlier on, when she had talked about her longing to have another child. Could it be that the men's seed was failing, due to some mysterious influence from below? Was that what Gwynned had implied? Back then, she had been so preoccupied with other things that she hadn't really put two and two together, but yes, it made sense, terrible sense. And if it was true, they couldn't just sit around and wait any longer. They had to act, and soon.

* * *

It was already quite late, so Neth went out to set the traps with Zev's help, while Carver prepared bedrolls for their guests. They sat down around the fire, nibbling on chunks of dried seaweed. The women had withdrawn into the shelter. Obviously Maeghan had something she wanted to discuss with Vaileann in private. Nethanel didn't mind. He, too, was glad for a chance to speak freely. He wasn't in the habit of keeping secrets from Maeghan, but there were things she didn't really understand.

"You know, Carver…" Andras stretched his long legs, giving Carver a thorough once-over. "Your hair has grown out quite a bit. It suits you. Makes you look less like a land dweller."

Nethanel followed his gaze, chewing thoughtfully. It was true. Carver's hair had grown long enough to almost reach his shoulders, and it looked… nice. All of a sudden, he was struck by the impulse to run his hands through the silky black strands, to tug gently, or maybe pull a little harder, and see how Carver would like it.

Carver had stiffened visibly at Andras' words, though. "What do you mean, _less like a land dweller_?"

"Relax, _mi amico,_ " Zev chipped in, his voice warm and rich, almost purring. "As he said, it looks good. Though you should consider tying it back or braiding it. I can show you how, if you'd like to."

"I can do that." Nethanel growled. He definitely wasn't going to let Zev pet his mate's hair. "Come here, Carver."

Carver obeyed willingly, settling halfway in his lap, with his back to Neth. Andras and Zev exchanged a quick glance and a grin, but they remained quiet, watching with interest as Neth arranged two strands of hair into braids running along the side of Carver's head. It was a task Nethanel thoroughly enjoyed. Carver's hair felt good under his touch, and his body was radiating warmth. Carver, too, seemed pleased, his eyes half-closed, his breathing deep and relaxed.

"There." Neth tied the braids back into a tight ponytail together with the rest of Carver's tousled mane. "How do you like that?"

Carver ran a probing hand along his skull. "Feels good."

"Looks good, too." Andras winked at them. He had placed his head comfortably on Zev's thigh and looked happy and sated.

It was warm in the cave, and all four of them grew quiet for a while, sharing a comfortable silence. Of course, it wasn't long until Carver started to fidget again.

"So, how do you fight with those?" He gestured at Zev's daggers.

The Antivan smiled, slowly and dangerously. "Would you like me to show you?"

"Sure!" Carver was on his feet in an instant. "Let's spar a bit. Are you coming, too, Neth?"

Nethanel shook his head. "Later, perhaps. We'll be watching, right, Andras?"

His friend nodded, not bothering to hide his dirty grin. "Should be a pleasant sight."

And it was. Nethanel had never really had an opportunity to watch Carver fight, since he'd always been on the receiving end of his blows. Seeing him like this was a treat: the strong muscles in his back and shoulders rippling under smooth skin, the raw power of his thrusts, the look of intense focus on his face. As for Zev… Neth didn't like him, but he had to admit he enjoyed the view. The Antivan was all grace and speed, evading Carver's attacks with apparent ease, his own daggers whirling almost too fast to see. He was amazingly flexible, too, and Neth caught himself thinking about how that would work out in other contexts.

"Isn't he gorgeous?" Andras inhaled sharply. "Goddess, I can't wait until we're alone again."

"That good?" Nethanel raised an eyebrow.

"Better." Andras sighed dramatically, clearly savouring the moment. "He is perfect. Such smooth, soft skin, and at the same time he's strong, you know, hard and firm and-"

"Yeah, I get it, thanks." Neth had a hard time hiding his amusement. "And I'm glad for you. I really am. Still, you'll forgive me if I don't think he's _that_ special."

"Neth, you have no idea." Andras sat up, his face shining with excitement. "Special doesn't even begin to cover it."

* * *

When Carver's trident clattered to the floor for the third time, Zev jumped back with a laugh. "Let's call it a day, yes? You are strong, _caro_ , but you'll need to be faster if you want to best me."

Carver bent his head in acknowledgment, clenching his teeth as he made his way back to the fire. Zev lagged behind, wandering over to the shelter to see what the women were doing. Neth and Andras were deep in conversation, and didn't notice him coming straight away, so Carver couldn't help overhearing a few words.

"He has shown me a whole new world, Neth." There was an intense look on Andras' face. "You won't believe the things he does. I had no idea!"

Nethanel raised a questioning eyebrow, and Andras, noticing Carver approaching, grinned suggestively and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Oh? – Oh!" Nethanel was actually _blushing_. "And… you like that?"

Andras' grin widened. "Oh, yes. A little oil helps, mind you, and-" He kept whispering, glancing provocatively over at Carver as he did so.

Neth's eyes went wide and he was about to reply, when Zev suddenly came running, grabbing Carver hard by the shoulder. "Did you hear that? The traps!"

 


	16. Old Threats, New Answers

**Chapter 16 – Old Threats, New Answers**

It took only moments for the men to grab their weapons and head for the outer cave but, by the time they arrived, the attacking creatures were already inside the tunnel.

No sandcrawlers this time, Carver realized. The beasts advancing on them now were about the size of rabbits or cats, and they reminded him of overgrown lizards, with stumpy legs and fluorescent, pinkish-white scales. Their eyes were large and bright green and sat at the end of long stalks on top of their flat heads, and their wide-open mouths were full of razor-sharp, barbed teeth. There were about eight or ten of them, moving surprisingly fast on those short legs, and, even more frightening, they were moving along the walls just as easily as on the ground. Carver wasn't sure, but he thought he could see suckers on the soles of their pale, webbed feet.

Even Zev went pale for a moment, but he threw himself into the fight with remarkable zest, slicing open the first creature's belly with a single, sure stroke. It went down with a hissing noise, spilling its green, vile-smelling entrails all over the cave floors. It took all of Carver's control not to throw up at the stench.

Next to him, Neth cried out a warning, and then the attackers were upon them and things got frantic. Carver kept stabbing at the creatures, doing his best to evade their teeth, only dimly aware of the other three's movements. At one point he was surrounded by four of the lizard-things, three of them snapping at his legs, while the fourth was sliding along the wall next to him, glaring at him with those huge green eyes. They surrounded him on all sides, their maws wide open, and he felt an ice-cold hand grab his heart. But, before they could attack him, the first one was neatly sliced in two by Zev's daggers, and the Antivan was at his side, grinning madly as he dispatched another attacker. Carver dealt with the last two himself.

And then it was over, just as quickly as it had started, and by some miracle none of them was seriously hurt. Neth and Zev had taken some superficial scratches to their legs, but they didn't seem too much bothered by them. The two of them quickly made their way to the outer cave, while Carver and Andras remained leaning against the cave wall, both of them panting hard.

When the two returned, they looked grim and tense.

"How did they get through our traps?" Carver couldn't understand it.

They had only just improved the mechanisms, with Zev's help. Surely those creatures lacked the intelligence to evade them.

"They didn't." Neth's hands were shaking. "There were just so many of them… All of our traps were triggered. There are at least ten more out there. Most of them were already dead."

Zev nodded. "And we put the rest out of their misery."

"What _are_ they?" Carver couldn't hide his disgust as he kicked at one of the cadavers.

"We call them dragonlings," Anders replied. "Young dragonfish. They are hatched close to the surface, in dark caves under the mountain. They spend the first few months of their lives in shallow water, coming up frequently for air. Later, they lose the feet and tails and grow gills, and then they descend into the deep water."

"But why did they attack us?" Neth rubbed his eyes, clearly worried. "They should be hiding from us. They have no reason to be this aggressive."

Maeghan had joined them with Vail and the baby, listening quietly, but now she spoke up. "Crawlers, buzzers, and now dragonlings. There's only one explanation. The Deep Ones are getting bold again."

Carver cleared his throat. "What do you mean? Who are the Deep Ones?" He had heard the expression several times before, but no one had ever elaborated on it.

Neth raised his head. "It's just how we call the creatures of the deep sea. They aren't evil or dangerous and, in the normal course of events, they stay where they belong. It's not in their nature to attack us. But about ten years ago-" He faltered, unable to go on.

Maeghan put a calming hand on his arm and continued for him. "A little over ten years ago, they first started attacking people. Neth's mother was one of their first victims, but many others got hurt or killed as well."

Carver's chest constricted painfully at the expression on Neth's face. "What did you do?"

"In the end, our men went after them." Vail's voice was flat. "It was a tough fight. Many were killed. But they managed to beat the Deep Ones back, and things calmed down."

Maeghan nodded. "There were a few isolated attacks, folk who ventured down too far, like my mother and her mate, but on the whole things got better. But now-" She broke off.

"There's got to be something we can do." Nethanel was deathly pale. "So many of them, attacking our cave… We were lucky Zev and Andras were here, or else who knows what would have happened. Imagine if…" He looked at Meraud who was miraculously asleep in Maeghan's arms and swallowed hard.

"They can't hurt her." Carver knew he sounded sullen, like a child, but he didn't care. "I won't let them."

"Nor will I." Maeghan's expression was fiercely determined. "I'm going to talk to Gwynned at the summer meeting. Things can't go on like this."

They nodded in unison. Fortunately the clan's next big gathering was only days away. This latest attack was clear proof that there was no time to lose.

* * *

As soon as they arrived at the Sacred Cave, Maeghan tried to snatch a few words with Gwynned, but the Clan Mother brushed her off. "Later, Maeghan. I have other things on my mind right now."

Maeghan complied, but secretly, she was annoyed. She wouldn't dream of questioning Gwynned's authority, but her fear for her mates and her child had been gnawing at her for the past few days.

She took a quick walk around the cave with Meraud safely tucked into a sling around her waist and neck. A few brief exchanges with the other assembled clan members confirmed her worst fears. There had been similar attacks on other caves in the past months. The Deep Ones were back, there was no doubt about it.

Yet, Gwynned seemed to have other priorities. As soon as the customary greetings and blessings were over, her voice rang out, crisp and clear. "Vaileann."

Vail stepped to the front. "What is it, Clan Mother?"

"I believe you have something to tell us." Gwynned indicated Zev with a tilt of her head.

"Not really, no." Vaileann shook her head.

"Oh, but I should think you do." Yes, there was no mistaking it. Gwynned was definitely annoyed. "You've found a new mate, and it now falls to you to ask for your clan's approval and the Goddess's blessing."

Vaileann raised her chin defiantly. "Zev doesn't wish to mate with me. He's just… a guest in my cave."

"A guest, eh?" Gwynned snorted. "That is not the way things are done here, Vaileann. You either mate with him or he goes to live with the young men. You know that as well as I do."

"What is it to you?" Vail's lips were set in a stubborn line, and much as she disagreed with her, Maeghan rather admired her for standing up to Gwynned like this. "Don't you think this clan has bigger problems than my love life?"

" _Love_." Gwynned almost spat out the word. "Love is selfish. You have a duty to your clan. And this… stranger, this _wanderer_ -"

"Oh, I know, it's all my fault." Zev's mocking tone shocked them all into silence. "I am terrible and it makes me sad. But I don't belong to your clan and you have no authority over me."

"That is true." The Clan Mother's tone was icy. "Which is why I'm talking to Vaileann, and not to you. The men of _our_ clan know their place and would never speak out of turn." She faced Vaileann, sounding warmer now, almost imploring. "Will you come to your senses, child?"

Vail shook her head, and Maeghan raised her hand, claiming the right to speak. "Please, Gwynned. Vail is right. We have more important things to talk about than this. The threat from below-"

"This _is_ important." Gwynned was clearly hurt to see Maeghan turn against her. "How can we hope to survive if we don't honour the old ways?"

* * *

Carver was glad Maeghan had spoken out. He had been getting increasingly angry and frustrated, and he wasn't the only one. There was a low murmur of dissent among the assembled merfolk that made Gwynned's lips tighten further. She raised her arms to quiet them down, but just then there was a commotion at the back of the crowd, and people moved aside to make room for a tall man who stepped forward with a sneer.

"Leave the stranger alone, Gwynned. All that talk about the _old ways_ rings hollow." The man's voice was rough but strong, carrying easily to the farthest corner of the cave. "You know very well that there have always been loners. There've always been men who prefer to be on their own. Like him. Like me."

Carver watched in fascination. The newcomer was powerfully built, at the peak of his strength, although his long black hair was run through with strands of grey. His clear, icy-blue eyes were fixed on Gwynned with a confidence bordering on arrogance.

Gwynned shook her head, unimpressed. "Different kettle of fish, Lughaidh. You may be an outcast now, and no longer feel bound by our rules. But at least you did your duty to your clan. You took good care of your mates, you helped raise your children, and you defended your clan in times of need. I don't approve of the choices you've made since, but you're nothing like _him_." There was a world of contempt in her expression as she turned her gaze to Zev.

Carver took advantage of the rising murmur of the crowd to nudge Neth in the ribs with his elbows. "Who is that?" he whispered.

Nethanel sounded just as awed as he felt. "Lughaidh. He is a legend among our people. He led our forces against the Deep Ones, the last time we took the fight to them. We beat them back to their lairs then, mostly thanks to his valour and sacrifice."

Carver glanced from Neth to Lughaidh. "You look a lot like him, you know. Is he family?"

"Do I?" Neth laughed, obviously flattered. "No, he isn't, not really. He was my mother's First, though, back before she mated." A shadow crossed his face. "I'm afraid her mate was rather a disappointment in comparison. Lughaidh, he was… larger than life, a mighty warrior, well-respected and well-liked despite his gruffness. My mother was smitten with him. She never stopped talking about him."

Carver frowned. "But, Gwynned called him an outcast. What happened?"

"A few years ago, his beloved mate died. Shelagh." Neth sighed. "She was a lovely woman, beautiful, sweet, and kind-hearted. Lughaidh took it hard. He refused to mate again, even though several of our women wanted him. Instead, he went off on his own. I haven't seen him since then."

They turned their attention back to the present. Lughaidh's answer had been lost in the flurry of disquiet provoked by Gwynned's words, but his expression made it abundantly clear he wasn't impressed with her reasoning. The people around him were regarding him with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

Gwynned called for silence again. "No matter what you think about this, you have no right to get involved, Lughaidh. You've left your clan, and you've forfeited your right to be heard."

Lughaidh nodded gravely. "Some among our people might still wish to listen to me, though." He raised his voice, making sure he could be heard in the farthest corners of the cave. "We are wasting our time arguing about mating rituals, when all signs point to the Deep Ones being on the move again. I haven't forgotten the last time that happened. Ten years ago, we beat them back to the depths, and I say it is time to do so again."

"I've said it before, Lughaidh." Gwynned's hands were clutched into tight fists now. "You have no right. This is not your decision to make."

"I'm not attacking your right to lead, Gwynned!" Lughaidh's eyes were flashing with passion. "Just listen to me, please. I may have gone my own way, but no matter what you say, this is still my clan. It's the men's duty to defend the Keep, just as it's the women's responsibility to keep everyone fed. But, how can we do our duty if you hold us back? I am sure each and every man is ready to die for their clan. I know I am."

"Will you lead us into battle again, Lughaidh?" a voice cried out from the back of the crowd.

"I am ready to do so, yes." Lughaidh's voice was firm and calm. "I will do whatever has to be done."

"So will I." To everyone's surprise, Zev raised his daggers in a mute salute. "I will join you, if you wish. You will find me an able warrior."

"We'll all fight at your side." Not to be outdone, Neth joined Zev, and so did Andras. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Carver to do the same, and soon, nearly all the assembled men were coming forward.

Lughaidh nodded tersely, but he kept his gaze on the Clan Mother's face. No matter what he'd said, it was clear he wouldn't go further without her consent.

For the first time, Gwynned sounded doubtful. "It's not that easy. We can't just attack the Deep Ones. The Goddess's will is clear. They are her children just as much as we are." She took a deep breath and recited. "What we do to them shall be done unto us three times over."

"But we're just defending ourselves." Maeghan clearly couldn't keep still any longer. "Isn't that different?"

"Is it?" The Clan Mother closed her eyes. "I don't know. We need to ask the oracle."


	17. Too Much

**Chapter 17 – Too Much**

"The oracle?" Carver's bewildered expression would have been funny at any other time, but right now, Neth wasn't in the mood to laugh.

"Shhhh. Maeghan can explain it better than me." He put a calming hand on Carver's arm. "Soon."

Gwynned raised herself to her full height. "Listen to me, everyone. We will consult the Goddess's oracle to decide if we should go after the Deep Ones. According to tradition, I can pick two women of our clan to come with me." She hesitated. "I will name them presently. They and their mates can remain here, at the Sacred Cave, until we have an answer. The rest of you are better off at home. May the Goddess bless you all."

It was a clear dismissal, and the assembled merfolk took it as such. Slowly, the crowd dissolved. Neth and Carver made their way to one of the fires to wait for Maeghan. When she arrived, she looked concerned.

"Maeghan." Neth flinched at Carver's challenging tone. "What is the meaning of all this? And how much longer do we have to sit around and wait?"

Neth had half expected Maeghan to snap at Carver and remind him of his place. But, she remained astonishingly calm. "These things take time, Carver. You can't just go in and ask the oracle. The women who enter her cave have to spend several days in prayer first."

Neth nodded. It made sense. Of course there would be rituals to follow if one wanted to learn the will of the Goddess. Unfortunately, Carver was a lot less amenable to this line of reasoning.

"Right. Prayer. Very useful." He huffed contemptuously. "Or, we could do something. You know, like attacking those monsters? But, of course, _Gwynned_ doesn't want us to defend ourselves."

"It's not that easy, Carver." Maeghan took a deep breath. When she addressed him again, she spoke forcefully, emphasizing every word. "Gwynned is our Clan Mother. It is her duty to make sure we follow the Goddess' wishes. Nothing will be served by ignoring her counsel and going against her advice. But, don't worry," her pretty, freckled face was uncharacteristically serious, "I spoke to Gwynned and I will be among the women who consult the oracle. She is going to take Mallaigh and me."

"She picked you, out of all the women of our clan. That's a great honour." Neth was pleased. This boded well for Maeghan's future position among the women of the clan.

Maeghan nodded. "I know, and I intend to make the most of it. If nothing else, it means I will have a chance to hear the oracle's prophecy for myself."

Carver fiddled impatiently with his braids. "How does this… oracle even work?

"The oracle is a woman. Her name is Muireann, and she lives on her own, deep down in one of the lower caves," Maeghan explained patiently.

But, her patience was ill rewarded. Carver remained sulky. "Great. A crazy hermit. What makes you think she will have an answer?"

This time, Maeghan's voice took on a sharper tone. "She is not _crazy_. Muireann speaks with the voice of the Goddess."

"How can she do that?" Carver shook his head. "That doesn't make sense."

Nethanel had to admit he was curious himself. All his life he'd heard the women mention the oracle in hushed voices, but no one had ever told him any details.

Maeghan sighed. "I don't really understand it myself, to be honest. They say Muireann was touched by the Goddess when she was a child. Under certain… conditions, she will go into a trance, and the Water Mother will speak through her. That is all I can tell you. I'm sorry."

Nethanel nodded, putting an arm around Carver's shoulders to calm him down, but it was no use.

Carver shook him off angrily, facing Maeghan again. "So, you are going with Gwynned now, to pray? What about Meraud? She needs you."

Maeghan looked down at the baby's head with an affectionate smile. "I'm taking her with me. You're right, she needs to be fed. Gwynned's granddaughter can take care of her when I'm busy. When we set out for the Oracle's cave, I'll bring her back to you."

She raised her head to look at Nethanel, and the flash of concern in her eyes was unmistakable. "Will the two of you be all right, Neth? I'll be away for at least two days, maybe three."

"Of course. Don't worry about us." He bent down to kiss her, and so did Carver, after a little nudging. "We'll be here if you need us."

Maeghan left, with a last grateful glance at him. Now that the summer meeting was over, the Sacred Cave emptied quickly. One by one, the merfolk went home to attend to their usual chores. The men who stayed behind were assigned campfires in a quiet corner of the cave and small side chambers to sleep in.

Neth was glad they had a little privacy. Carver was still chafing at the bit, visibly annoyed with how things were handled among the merfolk. A little distraction would do him good. Long before nightfall, Neth dragged his mate with him to their sleeping cave.

"What's the hurry, Neth?" Carver sounded irritated. "I'm not tired yet."

"Me neither." Without giving him a chance to protest, Neth pulled him close, kissing him hard. "But I do intend to tire you out, as well as I can."

Carver's body responded immediately, but he was still frowning. "What-"

"I thought we could try something new." Neth had asked around discreetly, and now he reached behind himself to produce a small flask of oil.

"This is about what Andras told you, right?" Carver swallowed.

He appeared a bit worried, but at the same time definitely curious. In any case, he had something else on his mind now, and he'd stopped mulling over Gwynned's decision. _Good_.

Nethanel smiled and sat down, patting the bedroll next to him. "Hey, don't worry. You know I would never do anything you don't like, don't you?"

"I know." Carver sank down at his side, regarding him earnestly. "It's just… I've heard rumours, from my brother and others, and I-"

"Shhh... Trust me." Neth leaned in to kiss him, slowly and thoroughly.

He loved this, loved tasting Carver, feeling him gasp against his lips, hearing his soft moans. It was addictive, and he couldn't stop, couldn't let go of his mouth, each kiss deeper and more passionate than the last. When he finally pulled back, Carver's eyes were dark with desire and the tension had disappeared from his shoulders.

"Neth. Go ahead." The roughness in Carver's voice made him shiver all over.

Quickly, they got rid of their leggings. Nethanel almost whined at the sight of Carver, laid out naked on the bedroll, without shame or reservation, his for the taking.

"Goddess!" He had to close his eyes for a moment, struggling for control.

When he opened them again, Carver was looking at him expectantly but, for a moment, he hardly knew where to start. He wanted to touch Carver _everywhere_ , run his hands all over that wide chest, down over his flat, hard stomach and along his trembling flanks. He wanted to caress every single inch of his body, to make him writhe and squirm, until he was begging for his release.

Taking a deep breath, he made himself speak. "Turn over."

Carver swallowed again, but he obeyed, burying his face in his arms. Neth moved to straddle him, and began stroking his back gently, then with more insistence. He couldn't get enough of touching him, all that hard muscle under smooth, soft skin. And he was so _warm_ , flushed all over, as if there was a slow fire burning within him. Slowly, very slowly, Neth worked his way downward, tracing Carver's spine with his fingers, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in his wake.

By the time he reached for the oil, Carver was moaning helplessly, shifting to relieve the pressure on his engorged cock, and Nethanel was just as worked up. He started with gentle circles, as Andras had told him, and when Carver made a small noise of pleasure, he slowly worked one finger inside him.

Carver tensed a little, and he stilled. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No. It's okay." Carver sounded shaky. "Just… weird."

"Good, though?" Neth placed a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades as he resumed his caresses.

"Yeah. Mostly." Carver's eyes were firmly closed, but he had relaxed again, and Neth took this as a sign to explore further, until he found a spot that made Carver shudder all over.

"Do that again." Carver arched into his touch, hissing sharply. "Maker, Neth, I-" He pushed himself back until he was up on his knees, then reached around to grab Neth's other hand and guide it to his cock, wrapping it firmly around his throbbing flesh. "Please."

Nethanel held his breath, doing his best to focus on two things at the same time. Carver felt so damn good, all of him, so hot, so tight, so eager for his touch, and he was getting more vocal with each stroke of Neth's fist, with each gentle nudge against that sensitive spot inside him. Instinctively, Nethanel tightened his grip around Carver's cock, at the same time adding a second finger inside him, curving it just like the first. Carver gave a small, helpless cry, his face contorting with lust. His hips snapped forward, once, twice, and then he was coming, keening with pleasure, his whole body jerking in Neth's arms.

The sight of him was almost enough to make Nethanel join him, almost, but not quite. He ached to be touched, and he could hardly contain his impatience, but he forced himself to lower Carver gently to the bedroll. With a heartfelt sigh, Carver rolled over on his back, staring at the cave's low ceiling.

"Neth." He sounded wrecked. "That was… I'm not sure I can take that. At least not very often."

Nethanel shook his head, torn between laughter and worry. "Too much?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Carver was panting so hard Neth could see his chest rising and falling. "Amazing, but…" He laughed a little, but then his eyes fell on Neth. "What about you?" He tried to sit up, but he was too shaky. "Shit. I'd love to, but-"

"Shhh." Nethanel bit his lip hard and took hold of himself.

Carver's eyes widened as he began to stroke himself roughly, too far gone to bother with finesse. Some part of him felt embarrassed at being watched doing this, but it was also incredibly hot: Carver's gaze on him; the memory of what they'd just done; the thought of everything else they could do… Before he knew it, his orgasm tore through him, fast and hard, and he nearly blacked out.

Carver caught him in his arms, muttering endearments, breathing kisses on his sweat-covered forehead and on his eyes, until they fluttered shut. The last thing he remembered was Carver's warm, amused voice, saying something about being _tired out all right_. Then he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

In the morning, they made their way to the campfire, where Sawyl and Varlan, Mallaidh's mates, were already awaiting them with breakfast. Sawyl greeted Carver with a wide smile and a slap on the back, while his mate was more reserved. Still, Neth was glad for Varlan's company. His hair and beard were grey with age, and he knew a lot about the clan's past. His stories were always worth listening to.

He didn't disappoint this time, either. Carver and Neth listened in wide-eyed fascination as the old man recounted the battles of the past, both against the Deep Ones and the wild marauders from the West. Varlan's eyes were alight with passion as he told of the deeds of their warriors, Margh and Rioghdan and Donagh.

"They're gone now, all of them, or nearly so." Varlan's craggy face was full of sadness. "I miss them."

"So do I." They hadn't heard Lughaidh come up and join them. He spoke quietly, almost to himself. "Margh and I… we were like brothers. No, closer than brothers. I miss him every day. But…" He raised his head, and his voice became stronger. "He died a good death. He died defending his clan, and that's the best a man can ask for."

"If your clan means so much to you, then why did you leave?" Carver sounded provocative, and his chin was raised in a defiant tilt.

"Carver!" Neth flinched. "I'm sorry, Lughaidh. My mate is out of line. It's not our place to question-"

"It's all right." Lughaidh's face was unreadable as he waved aside Neth's apologies. "Shelagh wasn't the first loved one I lost, boy."

"I remember." Sawyl's expression was full of genuine sympathy. "Poor Ruadhan. Such a pity she had to go so young."

Lughaidh nodded tersely. "Young men like the two of you, they don't understand. Maybe once you've experienced that kind of loss yourself… But, I would not wish such grief on anyone. Losing a mate, losing a child…" It clearly pained him to speak of it, but he went on, his jaws clenched tight. "When Shelagh passed away, and Gwynned asked me to find a new mate… It was too much. I knew I couldn't face it all over again. So, I left. It was either that or go back to living among the boys, like Donagh." He huffed contemptuously. "That's no way to live for a grown man."

Neth nodded respectfully, though he himself had always been grateful to have had Donagh around in the days before he’d mated. He remembered sparring with the older man, remembered the tricks he'd shown him, and the lessons he'd learned. Donagh had been firm, but kind; a patient teacher, and a shining example of what a warrior should be.

Lughaidh would have a different perspective, of course. Neth vaguely remembered being told that the two had never gotten along well. _I guess it hardly matters any more_. Last thing he'd heard, Donagh had only a few weeks left to live. His mysterious illness was slowly consuming him, and even Gwynned was powerless to help.

There seemed to be nothing but pain and loss and danger, all around him. Nethanel's throat tightened and he instinctively reached out for Carver's hand, pressing it hard. He was glad they had taken the time to make love last night. Who knew how long they would have each other, who knew what would happen, if they really went into the deep. Suddenly, the urge to hold his mates and his child, to keep them close and safe, became almost overwhelming. He couldn't wait for Maeghan to return.

 


	18. The Oracle

**Chapter 18 – The Oracle**

Mallaigh shook her grizzled head, glancing over at Gwynned. "So, Lughaidh is back. I hadn't expected to see him again in this life."

Gwynned's expression was grave, but there was a flash of sympathy in her eyes. "He's stubborn, that one, but he loves his clan with all his heart. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him so hard, back when Shelagh died. There are few who have been so cruelly tried by the Goddess."

"What do you mean?" Maeghan's ears pricked up at her words. There seemed to be an interesting tale behind this, and she was eager to hear it.

They had spent the past two days praying and fasting – well, the other two had fasted. The Goddess wouldn't expect a nursing mother to neglect her baby's welfare. Still, it had been a trying time for Maeghan. While she loved listening to the soothing cadences of the age-old prayers and raising her voice in praise of the Mother, she was less enthusiastic about the hours of quiet meditation that Gwynned had deemed necessary.

It had been a relief when they had finally set out for the oracle's cave. There seemed to be no rules against talking on the way, fortunately, and the first leg of the journey didn't involve diving.

Gwynned glanced over at her. "Those are old stories. I don't think-"

"Oh, come on, Gwynned." Mallaigh smiled wistfully. "It's a tale that's well worth telling. You see," she turned toward Maeghan, "when Lughaidh was young, he and Margh were inseparable, the closest of friends. Then Ruadhan picked Margh as her mate and took him to her cave. She was a beautiful woman, strong and well-liked, and they were happy together." The old woman sighed. "But, Margh missed his friend. He begged her to take Lughaidh as her second mate, and in the end she agreed, just to please him."

"What happened then?" Maeghan was thoroughly enjoying the story. It was fun to imagine a younger, less stone-faced Lughaidh. He must have been quite attractive in his youth – well, he still was, if she was honest.

"Something none of them had expected." It was obvious Mallaigh relished the telling of the tale as well. "As soon as Lughaidh joined them in their cave, he and Ruadhan fell for each other, completely and utterly. It was a passion the likes of which I've never seen again. They could hardly bear to be separated during the day."

"And what about Margh?" Maeghan was well and truly hooked now.

"He saw it all, of course." Mallaigh shook her head sorrowfully. "It can't have been easy for him, but he truly loved them both, and he put a brave face on it, even though he was suffering. They cared about him, too, you see, and he knew they didn't mean to hurt him. It was… complicated, but they made it work, until Ruadhan fell sick." There was a brief pause, while Mallaigh swallowed back a tear. "No one could help her. She died only weeks later."

Gwynned nodded gravely. "Sometimes I think the Goddess likes to take our best and brightest from us. There was nothing anybody could do."

Maeghan felt numb. "The two of them must have been heartbroken."

Mallaigh sniffed briefly. "Margh, he… couldn't live with it. He threw himself into the fight against the marauders, and didn't ever come back. We found his trident, but nothing else. And Lughaidh…"

"He stayed and became Shelagh's mate." There was more than just a little respect in Gwynned's tone. "No matter how much pain he was in, he realized his clan needed him and he couldn't just run off. He knew his duty, back then."

"This is so sad." Maeghan cast about for something else to say, but before she had found the right words, the tunnel ended abruptly in a small beach. A strange, snake-like symbol was carved into the opposite cave wall.

Before them, a water channel led steeply downwards. Gwynned reached for her breather and motioned for them to follow. They went underwater for what seemed like hours. At times, the channel widened enough for them to swim side by side but, at the end, it narrowed again, and they went in single file. Maeghan was the last one to emerge on the other side.

They were in a tiny cave, nothing more than a rocky ledge to stand on, really, and a tunnel opening in the wall behind it. The walls surrounding the tunnel entrance bore snake symbols similar to the ones Maeghan had noticed above, but they seemed less intricate here, more primitive. Without being told, Maeghan knew that this place was very, very old.

Gwynned muttered a brief prayer and took a torch from a niche in the rock, lighting it and raising it to show them their way through the tunnel. It was cool down here, but after a few twists and turns, the air got warmer and drier, and the tunnel opened into a larger cave.

A soft, warm light permeated the space, although Maeghan couldn't see where it was coming from. At the farthest end of the cave, a tidy little shelter had been erected, much like in her own dwelling, and a small fire was burning in the middle. Next to it, a woman was sitting cross-legged, raising her head when they entered.

"Well, well, what have we here?" She got to her feet in a fluid movement. "Gwynned. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

She sounded cool, almost sarcastic, and Maeghan had a feeling there was no love lost between her and the Clan Mother. Not surprisingly so, perhaps. They were the two most powerful women of the clan, after all, each in her own way, and neither of them would willingly submit to the other's guidance.

"Muireann." Gwynned gravely inclined her head. "I trust you are well. We have come to consult the Oracle."

"Of course you have." Muireann seemed almost amused. "Come and sit at my fire. The preparations may take some time."

Maeghan kept quiet, recognizing an opportunity to observe and learn, even though her mind was fairly overflowing with questions. Muireann intrigued her. She was younger than Maeghan had expected, and quite beautiful, with shiny black hair and large golden eyes. Yet here she was, down here on her own, with no friend to talk to, no man to warm her bed, no children playing around her fire. Not that Muireann seemed unhappy about it. A bit acerbic, maybe, but not bitter.

When she finally returned from the shelter, where she had been rummaging around, she was carrying a satchel woven from seaweed. She had pinned her long hair up in a knot, which made her look even moredistant and severe.

"Come." Without waiting for their reply, she led them to a small side cave.

The walls were thickly covered in carvings here, more sea snakes, and the occasional dragonfish. There was a crevice in the cave's rocky floor and, next to it, a single stone that served as a seat. A strange fog emanated from the chasm, greenish in colour and with a sickly sweet smell. Maeghan made a face, but at the same time she shivered with awe. This was a sacred place, no doubt about it.

Muireann shot her an astute glance. "You can feel it, can't you? A great power is unleashed here." Her tone quickly turned dry again, though. "Try not to breathe in the fog. 'Tis dangerous for the uninitiated."

Maeghan nodded obediently. Truth be told, she had no great desire to get closer to the strange mist.

They waited in silence until Muireann had arranged herself on the seat. Reaching for her satchel, she took out a kind of necklace and put it around her neck. Maeghan had to look twice to see what it was made of. _Dried snake skins_. She fought back a shudder of revulsion.

Once again, Muireann's hand dove into the satchel, and this time she produced a small glass vial filled with a clear green liquid. She carefully uncorked it, but before she put it to her lips, she fixed Gwynned with a cool stare.

"Are you ready to hear the Goddess's will?" There was something icy in her voice, almost like contempt.

Gwynned nodded tersely, and Muireann downed the vial's contents in one go. For a moment, her eyes closed and her features contorted, as if she was in pain.When she opened her eyes again, Maeghan had to hold back a scream. Muireann's pupils had turned into vertical slits, and her eyes were no longer just golden brown. All kinds of colours were swirling in her irises, and the effect was more than just a little startling.

Muireann turned a little to the side to immerse her face in the fog, breathing it in deeply. Humming a strange, monotonous tune, she swayed from side to side. Her movements were slow and tentative, and Maeghan realized that she was no longer seeing the cave around her.

When she finallyspoke, her voice had changed as well. It was deep and booming and utterly inhuman, and it made Maeghan's skin crawl. "Why have you come before the Oracle, my children? What is it you seek?"

Gwynned straightened up and stepped forward. Maeghan rather admired her poise as she put forward their question. "The creatures of the Deep Sea have started attacking us again, Mother. What should we do? We don't wish to hurt them, yet we need to defend ourselves."

Muireann raised her head, and to Maeghan's surprise, large tears were rolling down her cheeks. They looked incongruous, emerging from those reptilian eyes, but the emotion behind them seemed to be genuine.

"My net is torn, my music is out of tune." The Oracle's tone was heavy with sorrow. "My children are crying. They are in pain. Do not allow them to suffer." Muireann rose to her feet, raising her arms in agitation. "Do you hear me? Do _not_ allow my children to suffer."

Gwynned opened her mouth as if to reply but, before she could utter a word, Muireann's body began to convulse violently and her eyes turned upward in her head. She collapsed with a small sigh. Instinctively, Maeghan jumped in to help, and together she and Gwynned caught the unconscious woman in their arms. Muireann felt fragile, her body trembling with the aftershocks of the vision, and it was obvious there would be no more information forthcoming.

Maeghan bit her lips as they bedded Muireann on the cold stone floor, trying to make her as comfortable as they could. "Well, that was cryptic. I wonder-"

Muireann's eyes opened with shocking suddenness. They were back to their normal shape and colour, but they still carried a distant expression. "The Goddess doesn't owe you an explanation."

"I know." Maeghan did her best to look suitably chastened. "I just find it difficult to believe that-"

"I imagine you find many things difficult to believe." Muireann snorted contemptuously. "Now, leave me alone. 'Tis vital I get some rest. You have what you came for."

They didn't talk as they left the cave, even though Maeghan was dying to discuss the Oracle's words. But, she had to rein in her impatience until they were on dry land again.

"So, what do you think, Gwynned? What does it mean?" Ignoring the Clan Mother's raised eyebrow, she shook her head. "Why can't the Oracle be a little less… enigmatic?"

"It was clear enough, don't you agree?" Gwynned's lips were set in a tight line. " _Do not allow my children to suffer._ The Goddess doesn't want us to attack the Deep Ones. She loves all her children equally."

"But, that's just it." Maeghan had a hard time hiding her irritation. "We are her children, too. And anyway…" She took a deep breath. "What if she was talking about another kind of suffering? What if-"

"Maeghan!" Gwynned sounded angry. "Don't you trust the wisdom of your elders in interpreting the Oracle's words? The Mother forbids us to investigate further. No good can come of it."

But Maeghan refused to give in. This was too important. "But, Gwynned, think! There may be a different way to interpret her words."

"Nonsense!" Gwynned snapped at her. "Now if you would-"

"Let her speak, Gwynned." Mallaigh, who had been quiet so far, spoke up. "I want to hear what she has to say."

"Thank you." Maeghan spoke quickly, fearing another interruption. "I was thinking… She said her children _are_ in pain, so the Deep Ones are suffering already, even though we haven't attacked them. Maybe something else is hurting them, making them go after us. What if the Mother wants us to free them from its evil influence?"

Mallaigh nodded slowly. "That makes sense, actually. She said her net was torn."

"Exactly." Maeghan flashed her a quick smile. "And her music out of tune." She turned to Gwynned, her expression almost imploring. "Please, Gwynned. What if it's up to us to mend the net?"

The Clan Mother was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, she sounded weary. "Much as it pains me to admit it, I fear you are right and I was wrong. It hadn’t occurred to me-“ She shook her head, frowning. “No matter. The men are raring to go, and I won't hold them back any longer." Her voice became firmer. "We will take the fight to the depths. We will defeat this evil."

 


	19. The Quiet before the Storm

**Chapter 19 – The Quiet before the Storm**

They returned to the Sacred Cave in the middle of the night. The place was uncharacteristically dark and quiet, with just a few torches and nearly burnt-down fires lighting the vast space. Maeghan couldn't recall ever seeing the place so deserted, and for a moment, she felt an ice-cold hand grab her heart. Was this going to be the future of the clan, if Gwynned’s fears turned out to be justified? If no more babies were born, if more and more of the men fell sick like Donagh? Was this how it was going to be, a few stragglers gathering around a lonely fire? Suddenly, she couldn't wait to hold Meraud in her arms again.

Gwynned went to find Lughaidh, while the other two women returned to their mates. When Maeghan entered their quarters, both Neth and Carver were fast asleep, and so was the baby. She had to smile at the sight that greeted her.

The men were huddled together on the pallet, their heads so close together that the long strands of their dark hair were one single, amorphous mass in the shadowy light. They had placed Meraud’s basket right next to their bed, on Neth’s side, within easy reach should she wake up and need to be comforted. Maeghan was briefly tempted to just let them all sleep, but her breasts felt heavy and full, and she knew it would be wise to wake the little one now for a feeding, if she didn't want to suffer in the morning. Picking Meraud up, she settled comfortably against the cave wall. The baby mewled softly when Maeghan tickled her tiny ear, but she accepted the offered breast eagerly enough.

It was sweet to sit here, her baby in her arms, watching her mates sleep. She was so lucky to have them, so lucky they got along so well. Neth was maybe a little more comfortable with the practical aspects of childcare, but Carver loved the baby just as deeply, and he'd done his fair share of night time duties in the past few months. Maeghan sent a quick prayer of thanks to the Goddess while she waited for Meraud to finish.

Carefully, she burped the baby and switched sides. With any luck, the little one would go back to sleep again soon. Nursing had been a literal pain at first but, now that they had sorted it out, Maeghan loved it; loved the way it calmed down both herself and the child, loved how close it made her feel to her daughter.

Meraud was beginning to doze off, suckling only intermittently, her small body going heavy and limp, and Maeghan turned her attention back to her mates. She wasn't usually given much to introspection, preferring to act rather than think. But, she had spent a lot of time brooding over Carver ever since she'd found she was pregnant.

Gwynned had warned her that it would be a challenge for one as young as him to deal with the changes in her body, and with their new roles as parents. Maeghan couldn't deny there was some truth in this. In the weeks after Meraud's birth, she had been a lot less available, after all. As she had struggled with feeding the baby and waited for her body to heal, making love to her mates had been the last thing on her mind. Maeghan sighed. She had always been a passionate woman, so this situation was as new to her as it was to them.

She worried that the bond between her and Carver would weaken, without the physical side to keep it strong. It wasn't always easy to have a mate who wasn't born to their way of life. Mallaigh, who had experience with this kind of thing, had strongly advised Maeghan to keep him well satisfied, if she wanted him to stay around. It was a blessing, really, that Neth had stepped in to make up for her own recent lack of enthusiasm. And she was sure her desire for them would return in due time.

As a matter of fact, as she looked at the two of them lying on the pallet, peacefully sleeping with their limbs entwined, she felt a definite stirring of interest. Carver's blanket had slid down a little, revealing his muscular back. She could barely make out the outline of his perfectly curved ass in the dim light, but it was enough to move her into action.

Very carefully, Maeghan placed the sleeping baby in her basket, covering her with a light blanket and breathing a kiss on the downy little forehead. Two quick, silent steps took her over to the pallet. She hesitated a moment, but then crept in between the two of them, nudging their bodies apart to make room. Carver grunted in his sleep and turned to face her.

"Damn it, Neth. I need some sleep." He sounded groggy, and she doubted he was more than half awake.

She should really let him get some rest. But, he smelled so good, and he was so warm that she just couldn't resist. Taking his hand, she pulled it up to her chest.

"Does this feel like Neth to you?" she whispered, smiling when his hand moulded itself automatically around one breast.

"Maeghan!" It was wonderful to hear the happy surprise in his voice. "You're back."

He caught her lips in a long, languorous kiss, while his hands began to roam her body. He was still drowsy, but this only meant he was a little less impetuous than usual, and the soft, dream-like lassitude of his caresses drove her mad with want.

"Carver." Her skin was tingling all over, and she couldn't get enough of his touch. "Please make love to me."

He moaned and pulled her even closer, half on top of him, so she could feel him against her stomach. One of his hands slid lower, along the gentle curve of her belly, down between her legs, and she opened up willingly for him. But, she was nowhere near as wet for him as she would have liked, and when his fingers brushed along her opening, he withdrew them immediately.

When she made a small, impatient sound, Carver laughed softly. "Shhh. Just let me-"

Before she knew it, his head was down there, his hair tickling her thighs as he spread her open. And then his tongue was on her, and she whined softly with delight. _So good_.

"Maeghan?" Behind her, Neth stirred, his voice heavy with sleep.

He caught on quickly, though, embracing her and bringing his mouth down to her breasts, licking her nipples with infinite tenderness. Another whine escaped her lips and she knew she couldn't wait any longer.

"Carver, please." Burying her hands in his hair, she tugged him upwards. "I need you."

He gasped at her words, but he arranged himself obediently between her legs, placing her thighs on his hips. "Are you sure you-"

There was still a hint of hesitation in his voice, and she didn't want that, not now.

"Please." She ran her hands all the way down his back, cupping his ass and pushing him deep inside her in one smooth move.

"Damn it, Maeghan." His head flew back on a long sigh, and he went taut all over with the effort of controlling himself.

And Goddess, he felt so good inside her, thick and hard, and she wanted him to move, needed him to move, _now_. She wiggled under him, and he finally took the hint and began rolling his hips, slow and deep. Neth was breathing hard next to her, and she reached down to wrap a hand around him. His whole body reacted to her touch, his arm tightening around her, his hips snapping forward involuntarily.

"I love you," she breathed. "I love you both so much."

They responded with rough groans, both of them past words already. Neth was thrusting hard into her hand, in time with Carver's strokes. It was intoxicating, both of them panting heavily, both of them so close to losing all semblance of control, both of them at her mercy. Just then, a hand - she wasn't even sure whose it was in the dark - found its way between her legs and touched her, caressed her just the way she liked it, and suddenly she was the one rushing headlong toward completion.

She heard them cry out triumphantly as she came between them, trembling all over with the force of her climax, and only moments later, they joined her, Neth spilling all over her hand even as Carver finished deep inside her.

When they had all calmed down a little, Carver cleared his throat. “Maeghan. What did the oracle say? What are we going to do?”

Maeghan took a deep breath. “It's hard to discern the will of the Goddess. But Gwynned has spoken. Tomorrow, Lughaidh is going to call the men together to fight.”

Carver inhaled sharply, and on her other side Neth tensed up. “Really?”

“Yes. We should all get some sleep now.” Maeghan was struck by a sudden flash of weariness. “Hold me. Please.”

They complied, embracing her both, though she knew they must be full of questions.

“Later,” she yawned, hiding her face against Neth’s chest. “I promise I'll tell you all about it in the morning.”

Neth made a small, soothing noise, nuzzling her hair with his nose. Maeghan had never felt as perfectly safe as she did now, with their warm, strong bodies on both sides of her, shielding her from the world and its dangers and worries. Twisting around to reach for Carver, she held on to both of them as tightly as she possibly could.

When the morning came, they would head out to fight the evil that was threatening them all, and only the Goddess knew if they would both come back safe and sound. But right now, they were all hers, for a few more precious hours, and she clung to them, willing back the tears that were rising in her eyes. _I love you both so much._

* * *

It was time to say goodbye. As Maeghan looked around at the assembled men of her clan, she was filled with a mixture of pride and apprehension. They had all answered Lughaidh's call, every single one of them, and they were a fine sight to behold, strong and courageous and determined to deal with the threat from below. And yet… There were so _few_ of them.

Maeghan was old enough to remember the last time all the clan's warriors had united against a common foe, ten years ago, and she was keenly aware of the gaps in their ranks. Her mother's mate, Bearach, had been a strong fighter, even if he'd been no longer young. But he was gone now, and so were many others, younger men, lost in pointless skirmishes against the Deep Ones. They would be sorely missed in the impending fight: Cailean and Daveth, and Rioghdan and-

"Donagh?" Gwynned sounded incredulous. "What do you think you're doing here?"

Maeghan spun around, not believing her ears. But yes, it was him. _As if he could ever be mistaken for anyone else._ Despite his sickly pallor and his worrying gauntness, he stood tall, with his trident in hand, ready to fight. His eyes met Maeghan's, and she trembled all over under his gaze as the memories of their time together assailed her with full force.

He had been so gentle, so patient. _Warm, strong hands, caressing every inch of her skin, learning what pleased her; rough, chapped lips on her breasts; his clever tongue everywhere on her body, exploring her, invading her, until she begged for more, begged without knowing exactly what to expect. And finally, Donagh lying back and pulling her on top of him, his easy smile belied by the dark passion in his eyes._

He'd let her set the pace as she took him inside her, keeping still with iron discipline, watching her face hungrily. Maeghan still recalled it with crystalline clarity, that moment, when the initial discomfort had given way to a sense of utter delight at how perfectly their bodies fit together. When he'd finally taken charge again, flipping her on her back and moving inside her, slowly at first, then increasing the pace, it had been... wonderful, wild and exhilarating, and at the same time sweet and tender. 

They had spent three weeks together, and during that time he had taught her so much, about her own body and its needs, and about different ways to pleasure each other. He'd let her explore as well, watching avidly as she touched him, played with him, made him come undone.

Maeghan bit back a sob. It was almost impossible to reconcile the lover she remembered, so full of life and strength and laughter, with the sick, tired man now standing in front of her.

Yet, his spirit seemed unbroken and his voice was firm as he spoke. "I'm not staying behind if everyone else is fighting."

Lughaidh shrugged. "I won't stop you, if that's what you want. But, you won't be much good to us, as weak as you are."

"I may yet surprise you, Lughaidh." Donagh raised his chin defiantly, but Maeghan saw the way his legs trembled, and her throat constricted painfully.

But, it was time to focus on her mates. There was no telling what awaited them, no promise of a safe return. Embracing Carver, she kissed him, doing her best to memorize the way his lips felt under hers, his scent, his warmth, his skin.

"Carver. Please be careful. Please don't take any unnecessary risks."

He grinned, though the flicker of fear in his eyes was unmistakable. "I'll be fine, Maeghan. I'll show them what I can do." When she made a small, worried noise, he kissed her back, with more force. "It's all good. At least we'll finally see what we're up against, and have a chance to kill it."

 _Or to be killed by it._ Sighing, Maeghan turned her attention to Neth.

He looked formidable, strong and confident, and he hugged her tightly, as if he never wanted to let go of her. "Maeghan. Don't worry. We'll be back before you know it."

She sighed. "Will you take good care of Carver?"

Neth nodded. "Of course. I'll bring him back to you in one piece, don't you worry."

"Will you stop this?" Carver huffed impatiently, raising his chin in a gesture of pure stubbornness. "I can do this, you'll see!"

"I know you can. I know you'll be back." Maeghan closed her eyes, fighting back her tears. _Time to be brave_. Taking a deep breath, she favoured them both with her most dazzling smile. "I look forward to welcoming you home."

They smiled back and joined Zev and Andras at the water's edge, reaching for their breathers. Maeghan kept up her optimistic façade until they had all disappeared into the depths but, inside, she was numb with fear and worry, and she was praying more fervently than ever before. _Please, Mother, don't take them away from me. I don't know how I'd live without them._

 


	20. Deep Down

**Chapter 20 – Deep Down**

It was cold down here, in the tunnels deep under the mountain, cold and scary, even in the company of the other men of the clan. Neth would never have dared to venture so far into the depths on his own, but he trusted Lughaidh, and besides, they didn't have much of a choice.

The first shoal of dragonfish took them by surprise, even though Lughaidh had sent scouts ahead. They emerged from the tunnels on both sides, attacking the mermen's flank, as if they had patiently lain in waiting, planning to surprise them. _But surely that's not possible._ Neth chided himself for even entertaining such thoughts, throwing himself into the fight instead.

The dragonfish were the largest he'd ever seen, more than a man's length, their slender, twisting bodies covered in shiny, black scales. A greenish light emanated from them, and their teeth looked impossibly long and sharp, almost too big for their mouths. They were fast, too, and there were so many of them! Neth was glad Carver was at his side, shielding his vulnerable left. Together, they killed four of the large fish in quick succession, earning themselves a moment's respite.

Around them, all the other men were doing their share as well, and soon they were surrounded by floating carcasses, their creepy glow slowly dying away. Lughaidh seemed to be everywhere at once, pointing out who needed help, orchestrating their counterattack until, finally, the fish turned tail and fled. When Lughaidh signalled for them to stay behind instead of giving chase, Neth had to grab Carver's arm to hold him back. Despite all his efforts to teach the merfolk's sign language to his mate, Carver still only understood half of it. Still, he had been more of a help than a liability, and that in itself was remarkable.

A little further down they found the two scouts, Ghillie and Alec, both of them paralyzed by buzzer burns. Ghillie was convulsing badly and was on the verge of losing consciousness. _He probably won't make it._ Neth could read the knowledge in Lughaidh's grim face. Still, they couldn't just leave them to die. At a gesture from Lughaidh, Varlan and Sawyl grabbed the two younger men and dragged them toward the nearest upward passage.

_That's four of us gone_. Ulf was bleeding from a small wound, Neth noticed, and Kristoff was sporting a nasty black and blue bruise on his right knee. _It's almost as if they're deliberately trying to weaken us before we reach our goal._ Once again, he told himself not to be silly. Neither buzzers nor dragonfish possessed enough intelligence to come up with such a plot. And yet…

Fortunately, there were no more attacks as they proceeded. But the water became noticeably colder, and the only natural light was the soft blue sheen of the fluorescent corals lining the rocky walls. As it grew even darker, Lughaidh produced several water lanterns from his net and distributed them among the men. _Gwynned must have given them to him._ Neth felt a shudder travel down his spine. This, more than anything, proved that the Clan Mother supported their venture. In the normal course of events, the lanterns were only used at night time, and then only in dire emergencies. Taking a light to the depths of the ocean was considered the ultimate sacrilege. If Gwynned was willing to break the taboo, things were serious indeed.

The soft, white light of the lanterns illuminated the sea floor below them. The ocean bed was craggy here, full of deep fissures, overgrown with long strands of red algae that reminded Neth of a song the women used to sing about the Water Mother. _Her fiery hair at the bottom of the sea._ Not a single fish was in sight, not a single living creature, except for the advancing mermen. Carver was glancing nervously over at him, and Neth instinctively reached for his hand. _Something's not right here._

And yet, Lughaidh swam on, with a relentless, stoic calm that was as impressive as it was unsettling. Neth felt as if he should warn him, as if he should raise the alarm, making them all fall back, before it was too late, before-

A few paces to their left, _something_ moved. At first, Neth thought it was a snake, long and impossibly thick, but it was immediately joined by a second creature, then a third. And then the very ocean floor seemed to rise, and he realized that they weren't snakes. They were arms, huge, muscular, flexible arms, and they were attached to the biggest creature he had ever seen. It would have been inexplicable that they hadn't noticed it before, were it not for the fact that it was the exact same colour as the ground below them.

The Kraken floated upwards, as if dragged by strings, water swirling around its huge, flabby body in powerful currents. Next to Neth, Carver recoiled instinctively. If he'd been on dry land, he would probably have screamed, and no one would have blamed him. It was a frightening sight.

The creature's eight arms were each at least fifteen feet long. Just like the two tentacles on its head, they were covered in sucker rings. Neth had a feeling that, once they took hold of something or someone, there would be no escape. One of the tentacles was already reaching for Lughaidh, trying to grab him, but he evaded it in a graceful move, raising his trident to defend himself.

But, what was the point in attacking this monster? For a moment, Neth almost despaired. He could _feel_ the creature's strength, see the cunning shining from its creepy, bulging eyes. A long tongue lined with small teeth snaked out of its huge beak, as if it couldn't wait to taste them.

Neth had always believed the Kraken to be a myth, a story to scare reckless children into staying in safe waters; an ancient monster, sleeping in the abyss under the sea, until it was woken by an unwary diver. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected to actually set sight on it one day. And now he wished he hadn't. Even if they survived this day, he was sure this creature would haunt his nightmares for years to come. _Mother preserve us. Don't let us die down here._

* * *

It was getting dark, not long until nightfall. Most of the women had set up camp in the Sacred Cave, as if by silent accord, waiting for the men to return. It was unlikely they would be gone for more than a few days, and none of them fancied returning to an empty cave at night. Besides, it was easier to take turns watching the children, few as they were.

Maeghan was staring into her fire, rocking Meraud's basket gently with her toes, when Sirin dropped to the ground next to her with a deep sigh. "How are you doing, Maeghan?"

"I'm fine." Maeghan frowned.

Sirin was fun to talk to as a rule, but right now, she wasn't sure she wanted company. Still, at least it would take her mind off worrying about her mates. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the other woman.

"Where's Vail?" Sirin fiddled with a log of driftwood, sending up a flurry of sparks.

"Hiding from Gwynned, I believe." Maeghan chuckled mirthlessly. "I don't think she wants to hear any more admonitions. Even though in her heart she knows Gwynned's right."

"You think? I don't know." Sirin sighed deeply, gazing up at the shadows dancing on the cave's ceiling. Maybe the whole mating thing doesn't really work all that well. At the very least we should wait a little longer before settling down, and not just grab the first guy who makes us tingle."

Maeghan was curious. "You mean like… you and Ulf?" She bit her lip, unsure whether she had gone too far.

Sirin flashed her a grin. "It's okay, you know. If I didn't want to talk about it, I wouldn't have brought up the topic. Yeah, I'm talking about me and Ulf." Again, she sighed. "Sometimes, I think it would have been better if we'd just slept together for a while, got it out of our system, and then went our separate ways. Of course he _does_ love the children."

"He loves you, too." Maeghan couldn't keep silent. "That's pretty obvious."

"Yeah, he does. In his own way." Sirin chewed thoughtfully on a piece of dried seaweed. "And I _like_ him, I really do, and he's a decent lover and all that. It's just…" She searched for words. "It doesn't compare to what Torn and I have. Not at all. And if I'd waited a little longer-" Sirin broke off, opting to change the subject. "What about you, Maeghan? You've known Neth since you were children, haven't you? Don't you ever get bored with him? Now that you have a hot young land dweller around?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Bored?" Maeghan had a hard time hiding her indignation. It was such an utterly foreign concept. But Sirin just shrugged, and she forced herself to continue in a calmer tone. "No. I've always wanted Neth. I'll never stop wanting him."

Sirin smiled, a little wistfully. "Hey, that's fine. If it works for you, you're a lucky girl. What about Carver, though? Do you love him just as much?"

"I… I do, I guess." Maeghan was confused. She'd never really thought about her feelings for her mates in such terms. Trying to determine whether she loved one of them more than the other was utterly pointless.

Sirin watched her face with a sly smile. "What if you had to decide, though?"

"What do you mean, decide?" Maeghan's confusion was quickly turning into irritation. Really, Sirin might as well ask her to decide between eating and breathing. "I want them both. I need them both. They're both mine."

She must have sounded more aggressive than she'd intended. Sirin raised both hands, palms turned outward in a gesture of defeat. "All right, all right. I get it. No need to shout at me." Growing serious, she swallowed once. "Let's hope you get to keep them both. Let's hope they all return safe and sound."

"They will." Maeghan raised her chin, ignoring the tight feeling in her throat. "They have to."

* * *

It was hopeless. They'd been fighting the creature for what seemed like hours, and they still hadn't managed to place even one decent blow. Carver was getting desperate. If only they could find a vulnerable spot! But, it was all they could do to evade the tentacles' grip. The creature's rotating eyes looked utterly alien and terrifying, with their horizontal slits for pupils, and they were _everywhere_. The kraken anticipated every move, every attack, and there was simply no getting past its strong, flexible arms.

Carver realized he was getting tired, and getting tired would mean making mistakes, which might well turn out fatal. Next to him, Neth was just as exhausted, his movements jerky with frustration. But, what could they do? Lughaidh was tireless, but he, too, appeared to have run out of ideas. Soon, they would have to retreat.

A flash of light from Lughaidh's lantern made the Kraken momentarily recoil, giving them a chance to catch their breath and observe it more closely. Carver noticed a large, dark stain on its belly oozing a thick, syrupy liquid. _Is it hurt?_ Whatever had happened to the creature, it made one thing clear. Attacking its soft underbelly was their best chance to inflict a serious wound. But what good was that knowledge, if they couldn't get close enough?

He wasn't the only one who had come to this conclusion. Suddenly, Neth was grabbing his arm, tight enough to hurt. When he swivelled around to protest, Neth pointed past him, his face a mask of shock and grief. One of the mermen was swimming straight toward the creature, without any regard for his safety. Carver's heart sank when he recognized the man. _Donagh_. It was all too clear what he was planning.

Torn and Dairren were about to follow him, but Lughaidh held them back with an imperious swipe of his arm. And then they watched. Watched in helpless horror, as the two foremost tentacles took hold of Donagh and pulled him slowly, inexorably, toward the curved beak. Watched, as the saw-like tongue darted out and snaked around his legs, shredding the flesh from them. Watched, as his face contorted in a silent scream of pain and his eyes rolled upward in his head. He must have already been dead when the beak closed around his waist, almost cutting him in half.

Only then did Lughaidh give the signal to attack, and they all homed in on the Kraken's belly. It was so distracted by its prey that it hardly heeded them until it was too late. Their tridents punctured its stomach, sliding easily into the soft, blubbery tissue, and then Zev's two blades neatly sliced it open. The creature collapsed in a squishy, amorphous heap, all strength gone from its arms.

As it sank down to the ocean floor, Carver saw something emerge from its gaping stomach. An object, a sphere made from some dark material that swallowed the light of their lanterns. It slowly sank downward. Neth had seen it, too, and was striking out, trying to grab it. But, before he could touch it, Lughaidh stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. Shaking his head, he caught the thing in a net, and carefully dragged it along, taking care not to let it get too close.

Carver almost forgot to breathe properly as the realization sank in. It was over. Donagh was dead. The Kraken was slain. It was time to return to the surface.


	21. Sacrifice

**Chapter 21 - Sacrifice**

"They're back!" When she heard the cry from the far end of the cave, Maeghan was on her feet in a flash.

A quick glance at Meraud told her the baby was still asleep in her basket. _Thank the Goddess!_ The little one had been restless at night, fussing and whining, refusing to be calmed down by nursing or gentle rocking. In the normal course of events, Neth or Carver would have taken over at that point, giving her a chance to get some sleep. Maeghan was exhausted. She had sorely missed their help.

She couldn't wait to have them in her arms again, to reassure herself that they were both safe and sound, but she was reluctant to leave the baby alone. Mallaigh saw her fidget and smiled at her, gesturing for her to run. Maeghan didn't have to be asked twice.

One by one the men emerged from the water, looking exhausted, but happy to be home. Maeghan did her best to make sense of the snatches of conversation around her – _we_ _did it, it's gone, we're safe_ – while at the same time looking out for her mates, her heart beating wildly as she tried to find them.

It took longer than she would have liked, but finally they appeared, both of them at almost the same time, smiling brightly when they saw her. Maeghan nearly jumped into their arms, embracing both of them at the same time, laughing, crying, repeating their names over and over.

Neth's eyes were shining with pride. "Maeghan. We killed the beast. The Kraken is slain and we are free. We did it, we really did it."

"Yeah, I suppose you helped a little, too." Carver was grinning giddily, yelping with pain when Neth elbowed him in the ribs. "Ouch! All right. You were amazing." There was so much genuine affection in his gaze when he looked at Neth that it made Maeghan's heart skip a beat.

"So were you." Neth smiled back, ruffling Carver's hair. "It was good to have you by my side down there."

Maeghan swallowed. "And I'm glad to have you both back, more than I can say. What about the others?"

She wasn't naïve enough to assume there had been no casualties. Last night, when Varlan and Sawyl had returned with the wounded scouts, the women had all been shocked into silence, gathering around a central fire in a desperate attempt to assuage their fears.

Neth grew serious, taking both her hands in his, avoiding her gaze. "Maeghan. I don't know how to tell you, but-"

She swallowed, realizing his words could only mean one thing. "Donagh."

Carver nodded, his expression sober as he put an arm around her shoulder. "He's gone. He gave his life so we could all survive. He died a hero."

Maeghan closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, her sight was clouded by tears. _Donagh_.

In her heart, she knew it was better this way. Dying in his bed, taken away by a slow and lingering sickness, this was not how a warrior should go. Much better to give his life for the clan in battle, like he had done, to be carried home by the Goddess and rest in her lap forever. And yet…

She would miss him, so very much. He had been such a special part of her life. Maeghan would never forget what he had done for her, been for her. Those few weeks they'd had together had been so incredibly intense. And yet, when they'd parted and she'd gone to be with Neth, he'd let her go with a kiss and a smile, wishing her nothing but happiness. 

And now he was gone.

Maeghan sobbed briefly. "He won't be forgotten. After all, from what you said, we have him to thank for your victory."

Neth grasped her hands tightly. "Yes. His noble sacrifice freed us from this evil creature."

Lughaidh, who was standing right next to them, raised his head, glaring at Neth. "So, you think the mighty Kraken was evil? You think _we_ vanquished it?" He harrumphed contemptuously. "Didn't you see, boy? It was sick, poisoned. The creature was close to death, or we would never have succeeded in killing it. And the reason for its suffering was _this_." He dropped the net containing the dark sphere on the ground between them.

"What is that… thing?" Gwynned had joined them.

She sounded frightened and repulsed, and Maeghan couldn't blame her. An almost tangible feeling of evil emanated from the strange object, as if it was actively trying to hurt them by its very presence.

"We found it in the Kraken's stomach." Lughaidh's jaws were working furiously. "It must have swallowed it, years ago. Ten years ago, to be precise."

"You mean…" Gwynned's eyes were wide open.

Lughaidh nodded, his face grimmer than ever. "Back then, we thought the Deep Ones had given up attacking us because we killed so many of them. But that wasn't the reason." He rubbed his eyes wearily. "This thing… I'm willing to bet my life on it that this is what poisoned the Deep Ones and made them aggressive. The Kraken must have swallowed it, freeing them from its influence for a while, or at least watering it down over the years." He sounded almost awed. "It was a fearsome creature, to be able to shield us from such evil."

Gwynned nodded slowly. "And yet, even the mighty Kraken couldn't survive it forever."

"Exactly. It took a long time to die, but in the end…" Lughaidh rammed his trident into the sand near the object so forcefully that the ground shook. "And when it was dying, the evil came back, oozing from its pores."

"What do we do about it?" Maeghan pointed to the sphere, doing her best to ignore the cold feeling of dread settling in her stomach.

"Whatever you do, don't touch it," Lughaidh warned her.

She nodded and stepped back, surprised by the genuine concern in his tone.

"We'll take it to Muireann." Gwynned sounded clipped and concise. "She will know what to do."

* * *

Muireann was waiting for them when they entered the Oracle's cave, her pale face wearing a look that managed to be both bored and disdainful.

Before Gwynned could even start explaining their errand, she raised her hand to silence her visitors. "So, 'tis done. The Bane of the Deep Sea is no more. Have you found what was tormenting it?"

Maeghan just barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes at Muireann's words. _If only she'd been as straightforward about the problem before. Might have saved me a long discussion._

Gwynned just nodded. "The men found this in his stomach." She carefully placed the net containing the dark sphere on the sandy cave floor. "Lughaidh thinks it poisoned the Kraken."

Muireann's expression changed immediately to one of genuine concern, mixed with no small amount of curiosity. Grabbing a staff made from carved driftwood and covered in arcane signs, she carefully poked the thing. "'Tis most intriguing." Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "But yes, this must be-" Looking up at them, she nodded briefly. "Lughaidh was right. And you did well in bringing this to me. 'Tis certain you will need my help with this."

"Can you get rid of it safely?" Gwynned's voice was shaky, but determined. "I can feel the evil emanating from it. Whatever it is, it must be contained."

"I can do that, and more." Muireann's eyes flashed in all colours of the rainbow for a moment. "Leave it to me. But it will be a while before the Keep's waters are safe to live in again."

"What do you mean?" Maeghan could no longer keep silent. "Did this… thing poison our water? And why didn't you tell us so earlier?"

Muireann barely spared a glance for her. "The ways of the Goddess are not for you to question. She came to me in a dream, after your men slew the Kraken, and told me what to do." She fixed Gwynned with an icy stare. "You'll have to take the people of our clan away from here, at least for a while, until the waters have cleared up."

"Take them away?" Gwynned sounded appalled. "This is our home. What about the Sacred Cave? What about our traditions, our customs? We can't just-"

"You will have to leave. If you want this clan to live, if you want the women to bear children and the men to be strong, you will take them away from here for a while." Muireann's tone was implacable. "Three years, maybe four or five. I will let you know when it's safe to return."

She picked up the net containing the sphere and walked off toward the far end of the cave, making it abundantly clear that the conversation was over.

Gwynned refused to discuss the matter on their way back, but as soon as they were in the Sacred Cave again, she called a meeting of the women. Their news raised a riot, as was to be expected.

Maeghan took a deep breath, taking Gwynned aside while the other women debated and complained vociferously, none of them happy with the development. "Gwynned. You need to be clear and decisive about this. If you are uncertain about it, they will sense it and refuse to join us."

The Clan Mother nodded, but her eyes looked weary. "You're right. But how can I persuade them? Leaving our home… I'm scared, Maeghan. We have no idea what awaits us out there and what will happen to our clan once we leave. There may be dangers and risks we don't even know of."

Maeghan bit her lip. "I understand your fears. But we can't stay here either. The world is changing, Gwynned, and you need to be strong. We need to be strong."

"But where will we go?" Gwynned shook her head. "If everyone just goes their own way, our clan will die. It will dissolve without a heart, without a central place to gather around."

Sirin had joined them quietly, and now she spoke up. "I think I know a place." When Maeghan and Gwynned gave her a questioning glance, she continued, hesitant at first, but then with increasing confidence. "On our way here, before we joined the clan, we came across an abandoned settlement of our people. Torn said it was called the Peak. It's a few days' journey from here, but the fishing was good there and the caves mostly dry. There was even a shrine for the Goddess, though it was in bad shape. We could fix all that."

"But, why was it abandoned?" Maeghan's skin tingled at the thought, but Sirin just shrugged.

_"Something_ must have happened there, but whatever it was, it was a long time ago. It's been deserted for decades, from the look of it. I don't think we'd have anything to fear there."

Gwynned sighed deeply. "All right. Then it's settled. We will send scouts ahead, and I will give the order to leave, even if it breaks my heart. Who knows if we will ever come back?"

Maeghan raised her chin. "We will return." She had never been so certain of anything in her life. "This is the home of my mothers. I won't give it up."

* * *

They had set a date for their departure, and had agreed that the whole clan should spend the last night in the Sacred Cave, honouring the Goddess for one last time in the traditional place before setting off into the unknown. Neth approved of the arrangement. None of them knew what to expect; everyone was scared. It was good to be among familiar faces, good to be among friends. _One thing to be said for this, it has brought_ _us all_ _together again._

Of course, while the clan had drawn closer together, not everyone wanted to be part of its future. Zev had announced his imminent departure the night before, gathering his belongings and kissing Vaileann lightly on the cheek. "I won't join you in your new home, _cara_. It's time for me to move on."

Vail had seemed disappointed, but composed. After all, the Antivan had never made a secret of his desire to be free and unencumbered. But, when the morning came and it was time to leave, Vaileann emerged from her quarters, looking more distraught than Neth had ever seen her.

"He's left. He's gone." She was deathly pale, and her slim shoulders were shaking.

Maeghan embraced her gently, trying to shield her from the eyes of the quickly gathering crowd. "What's the matter, Vail? You knew he was going to leave. He said his goodbyes last night, didn't he?"

"No, you don't understand." Vaileann sounded numb. "It's Andras. He's gone. He must have left with Zev."

Nethanel's stomach turned over. "Andras? Are you sure? Why would he-"

But, if he was honest, he knew the answer well enough. Of course Andras would jump at the chance to leave with Zev. Of course he wouldn't want to go back to the way things had been before the Antivan showed up. Even if it meant leaving his clan, his friends, his mate.

Vaileann shrugged, her face stony. "I won't cry over him. After all, he wouldn't waste a tear on me."

Maeghan sighed, looking weary. "That's all very well. But who's going to help you take care of your child?"

"A child!" Nethanel couldn't believe his ears.

"Do you mean to tell me he left you pregnant?" Gwynned's tone was sharp as a dagger, making them all flinch.

"No." Neth shook his head. He couldn't believe his friend would act in such a despicable manner. "He wouldn't do that. I know Andras. He may have been unhappy, but he wouldn't have left you alone with a baby in your belly."

"You're right." Vaileann nodded reluctantly. "He didn't know. I… I'd been meaning to tell him, as soon as Zev had left. I didn't expect-"

"A fine mess you've gotten yourself into with your stubbornness." Gwynned snorted. "If you'd have listened-"

"And if _you_ had listened to _me_ a year ago, none of this would have happened either." Vaileann was clearly done addressing the Clan Mother with the proper respect. "You-"

"Vail!" Maeghan grabbed her arm, harder than she'd meant to. "What will you do now? You can't live alone with a baby."

"No, she can't." Gwynned's lips were set in a tight line. "And there are no young men available to mate with her. There's only one solution, according to our laws and customs." She fixed Maeghan with a cool glare. "You have two mates, and your friend has none. You'll have to give up one of them, at least for a while. You decide which one."

 


	22. Sea Change

**Chapter 22 - Sea Change**

"Give one of them up? I can't do that. No way." Maeghan's mind was racing.

Neth and Carver appeared numb with shock, staring at her as if imploring her to act. But what could she do? How could she dissuade Gwynned, how could she preserve her happy family? Maeghan loved Vail like a sister, and she deeply sympathized with her plight, but there was simply no way she could let either of her mates go.

Neth had _always_ been there. Ever since she'd been old enough to care, she had loved him, wanted him. A future without him was simply unimaginable. And Carver… He had grown impossibly dear to her in the past year, for all his unpredictable moods. And anyway, he had chosen this life to be with her, to be with Neth. How could she possibly ask him to leave her, to go and live with Vail?

"Why me?" She glanced at the Clan Mother's stony face. "Sirin has two mates, too, and so has Iona."

"Sirin has two children. And Ghillie is badly hurt. He won't be of any help to Iona until he recovers. No. This is up to you." Gwynned's voice was cold.

_She would sacrifice everything for the clan, and she expects me to do the same_. Maeghan was well aware that this was a test, and that its significance went far beyond the matter at hand.

The cave was deathly silent. The very air seemed heavy and laden with pressure, and Maeghan found it hard to breathe. _Goddess, will she really leave me no way out?_

“Stop this.” Lughaidh’s voice, rough and hoarse, filled the silence. “If Vaileann needs a mate, _I_ will take care of her and her babe.”

Ignoring the whispers of surprise, he stepped to the front, facing the women, his chin raised high. "I have clung to the past for too long. Life is change, like the sea. It's time I return to my clan and let go of the old pain." He rolled his shoulders, slowly, as if trying to dislodge a weight on his neck. "I have brought up children before, and I can make myself useful. I will join with her, if she wants me."

Vaileann gasped audibly. "Oh, I want," she muttered under her breath, too low for anyone but Maeghan to hear.

People would attribute her wide grin to relief, and they wouldn't be wrong, but Maeghan was also sincerely amused by Vaileann's enthusiastic reaction. Then again, she couldn't blame her friend. Lughaidh stood quietly before them, accepting everyone's stares with total equanimity. And he looked magnificent, an embodiment of strength and power, his body strong and well-muscled, his dark hair long and thick, his cool blue eyes clear and intense. He might be no longer young, but there was no denying that he was attractive, very much so, in fact.

_He knows it, too_. Maeghan smiled to herself. Yes. For all his gruffness, Lughaidh was perfectly aware that he was still a desirable mate, still a catch for every woman. More than one pair of eyes was fixed on him with barely veiled interest right now. _Well, good for Vail_. Her friend deserved to be the object of envy for once.

"Are you sure that's what you want? Both of you?" Gwynned's expression was unreadable.

Lughaidh just nodded, but Vail spoke up. "Yes. And I want to have the Joining now, before we leave. Here, in the Sacred Cave."

Gwynned looked oddly touched. "You are right. We can afford to stay one more night to do things properly."

Only now did Maeghan dare to reach out for her mates. They both embraced her tightly, clinging to her with an intensity that was almost desperate. Carver was trembling like a leaf, and Neth's face was wet with tears.

"Maeghan." His voice was a hoarse whisper. "I can't believe Gwynned would have-"

"Shhhh." She kissed them both deeply. "We can talk after the Joining. Well, maybe not just talk," she amended with a saucy grin, feeling her heart speed up, when they smiled back. "You're mine. Both of you."

For once, Maeghan couldn't wait for the ceremony to be over, even though she did her best to be attentive, for Vail's sake. Afterwards, she accompanied her friend to her quarters, where they found her new mate already waiting. Lughaidh greeted Maeghan with a brief nod, accepting her thanks, but his eyes were firmly fixed on Vaileann.

"Lughaidh." Vail seemed nervous. "You… you don't have to spend the night with me, you know. I'm with child already, and if you don't want to-"

Maeghan could have smacked her. _Damn it, Vail, you want him! Why-_

"Why wouldn't I want to?" Lughaidh frowned. "What makes you think-"

He stepped closer, his cool blue eyes searching her face attentively. What he saw there made his forbidding features soften a little, not quite into a smile, but close enough. Ignoring Maeghan completely, he pulled Vail into an embrace with a suddenness that made her gasp.

His voice was gentle, though, and his hand trailed down her back with a feather light touch. "I've been without a woman for years, Vaileann. And you are young and beautiful. But, most importantly,you are _my mate_."

Something in the way he said those two words went straight to Maeghan's core, making her tremble and blush. Vaileann's expression left no doubt that she felt much the same. Raising her face to his, she offered him her lips for a kiss.

Maeghan quickly withdrew, eager to find her own mates. _We'd better make the most of this night as well._

When she caught up with Vail the next morning, on their way out of the cave, her friend looked happy and relaxed, smiling serenely despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Vail?" Maeghan hesitated, unsure how to phrase her comment. "Are you… You look…"

Vaileann smiled mysteriously. "I'm fine. You know…" She tilted her head to the side a little, winking at Maeghan. "You remember how Shelagh was always so sweet and even-tempered? I think I know why now." Her eyes rested on the broad back of her new mate who was walking a little ahead of them. "Lughaidh definitely knows how to make a woman happy."

"I'm glad." Maeghan smiled at her friend. "We will need every bit of happiness in the time to come."

* * *

Nethanel looked around the small cave with a resigned sigh. It would do. It wasn't anywhere as comfortable as their old home had been, more cramped and a bit draughty, but yes, it would do. Carver and he had done their best to clean it out during the past few days while Maeghan had gone out to comb the sea. The fishing really was good in the waters around the Peak, but even so…

"What is it, Neth? Why do you look so worried?" Carver had returned from changing Meraud, and he now placed a warm, supportive hand on Neth's shoulder while rocking the baby with his other arm. "Anything wrong?"

"No, not really." He sighed again. "Just… Living here takes some getting used to."

Carver managed to shrug gracefully, even while balancing the dozing child. "It's not bad. Less exposed than the old place, actually. We won't need nearly as many traps as before. And I doubt the landfolk have a clue this place exists."

Neth nodded. _True_. The Peak was better hidden than the Keep had been, with fewer tunnels inside the mountain that needed watching, and a line of craggy cliffs shielding the cave entrances from the water side. It was smaller, too, but it offered enough room for their clan, at least for the time being.

"I'm a bit worried about our provisions." He scratched his neck. "Last year, we were much better stocked. I fear there won't be time to gather and preserve enough food to last us through the winter."

Carver thoughtfully chewed his lip. "You may be right. What with the move here, and the fighting… But, you know, we could trade stuff with the landfolk. Next time I take our things to the market, I could try and get some more oatmeal, maybe a bit of beef jerky or cheese, things like that." He looked confident and sure of himself, and Nethanel had to admit it was an attractive look on him. "From what the fishermen said, the farmers had a good harvest, and they have recovered a bit from the Blight. It's worth a try."

"It definitely is," Neth agreed. "I would never have thought of it, but-"

"Yeah, well." Carver grinned widely. "Maybe having a land dweller around isn't such a bad thing, after all."

"I never said it was," Neth protested, catching his gaze. "And if you can get Meraud into bed without waking her, I'll show you exactly how much I appreciate having this particular land dweller around."

Carver walked off toward the shelter with a grin that promised good things for his return. Neth's eyes followed him, noting with approval how easily he moved, how gently he held the baby. _He's adapting so well to the new situation_. Much better than he was, or Maeghan, if Neth was quite honest. Then again, Carver had gone through much bigger changes when he'd joined them.

Nethanel wondered what the winter would be like, here in this tiny cave. Would Carver still be as homesick as he'd been last year, still as resentful of being locked up? He still talked about 'missing the dogs' sometimes. _If only we could get him a pet_. Neth smiled sardonically at the thought. _Maybe we can tame a sea lion for him. Wouldn't that be fun?_

"Neth." Carver interrupted his line of thought by embracing him from behind, resting his forehead against Neth's back. "A copper for your thoughts."

"What?" Neth frowned briefly at the unfamiliar turn of phrase, but then relaxed again.

Carver felt so good, so warm and strong and safe, and his touch was already getting more insistent, his hand trailing down Neth's belly to tease along the waistband of his leggings.

"Let's wait for Maeghan." Reluctantly, Nethanel caught Carver's wrist and made him stop. "She will need it, too, I think."

Carver complied, silently acknowledging the truth of the statement.

Fortunately, it wasn't long until Maeghan returned, dragging a full net behind her, giving them a tired smile. "Carver. Neth. Help me with this?"

"Later." Neth knew the food was important, but one look into Maeghan's pale, drawn face told him that other things were more urgent right now.

Pulling her close, he held her, warming her cold limbs. She sighed deeply, sinking into his arms, then sighed again when Carver joined them, embracing her from behind. For a long moment, they just stood there like that, supporting each other, breathing in each other's scent. Then Nethanel took a deep breath and picked Maeghan up, carrying her over to the fire. She didn't even protest, just rested her head against his shoulder, and this, more than anything, told him how low her spirits were.

"Maeghan. I love you." He set her carefully down on a blanket, and Carver was there in a flash, supporting her back and gently massaging her shoulders.

Neth reached for the oil flask, passing some to Carver, and soon they were busy oiling her up, spreading the glistening liquid all over her body, kneading sore muscles and loosening stiff tendons. Maeghan sighed again, but this time it was a sound of pure pleasure. Her skin had begun to glow under their touch, and there was an actual smile on her lips.

"This is so good." She stretched voluptuously. "I only wish we were home."

Carver made a small, impatient noise, but Neth silenced him with a look, bending down to kiss her softly on the lips. "Shhh, love. You are home. You are with us."

Maeghan smiled at his words, closing her eyes and lying back, wiggling around a little in Carver's lap. Neth's breathing sped up at the sight. On impulse, he went for her breasts, cupping them both with his hands. They felt full and heavy, a lot more so than before Meraud's birth, and he liked them like this, couldn't get enough of handling them. But, Maeghan was not in the mood to take things slow. She pushed him lower, and he complied with a grin, running his hand up her thighs with just enough insistence to part them. Carver hesitated for a heartbeat, but then his hands took over caressing her breasts. Maeghan was writhing in their arms, clinging to them, pulling both of them as close as she could.

"Goddess!" Her eyes were still closed, and she was breathing hard. "I wish I could have both of you at the same time."

Neth felt a rush of arousal at her words. "If you really want that," he muttered, "we can work up to it. But, not now."

Carver's eyes widened at his words, but Neth ignored him and focussed on Maeghan, spreading her wide and sliding deep inside her. He whined with pleasure at how good she felt, how hot, how wet, how perfect. Unable to wait any longer, he began to move, but Carver stopped him with a hand on his hip.

"Wait." Carver shook his head and sat up a little. The position must have been uncomfortable for him, with Maeghan half on top of him, pushing against him with every one of Neth's strokes. "Lie back, Neth."

He nodded, rearranging himself slowly, careful not to lose Maeghan's warmth. She laughed with delight, straddling him and moving her hips experimentally. Carver moved in behind her, both hands around her slim waist, guiding her movements. They quickly found a rhythm, a hard, fast one that brought Neth to the edge within minutes. Maeghan, too, was close, and when Carver's right hand wandered down to touch her, skilled and assured, she came with a high-pitched cry. Neth let go then, thrusting up one more time, letting his orgasm wash over him like a warm, heavy wave.

He would have been perfectly content to just lie there, holding Maeghan, but Carver didn't leave her any time to rest. Lifting her off Neth's cock, he bent her forward and entered her in a single, swift stroke. Her head flew back and she cried out, and Neth was sure had never seen anything as beautiful as the expression on her face. Instinctively, he tightened his arms around her, holding her, supporting her as Carver took hold of her hips and pounded hard into her.

They made her come a second time before Carver finished, made her cry and beg and shake all over with the power of her release, and afterwards, they both embraced her, tucked between them, warm and safe.

When she dozed off, a smile on her lips, Neth knew that, for once, they had made her forget that she wasn't in her old home, forget about her worries and the uncertainties of the future. His own heart felt a lot lighter, too. Whatever awaited them, they would face it together. They were not alone.


	23. Epilogue – The Sea's Embrace

**Epilogue – The Sea's Embrace**

"Messere Carver! How nice to see you again. Are you well?”

Carver looked up into a round, beaming face, and automatically smiled back. "Emily. I told you, it’s Carver, just Carver. And I'm fine, thank you. How are you doing?"

The market was busy, with everyone eager to get out and about after the long winter, and Carver was thoroughly enjoying himself, bartering and catching up with the gossip and renewing old acquaintances. He was eternally grateful for this chance to keep in touch with life on land.

"I'm very well, thank you, ser." Emily blushed a little, her eyes resting on his bare forearms. "I'm a married woman now, you see."

"Are you? That's nice." Carver felt the tiniest pang at the news, remembering the day, almost a year ago, when her father had dangled the prospect of marriage to her in front of his nose in an attempt to convince him to stay around.

He took a closer look. Emily looked a little pale, with dark shadows under her eyes, and if he wasn't very much mistaken, there was a tiny curve to her belly. _She's probably_ _with child already. And she's hardly more than a_ _kid_ _herself_ _._ She couldn't be more than seventeen, and she seemed young and naïve for her age. Carver wondered what her father had been thinking to-

"Em! What are you doing there?" A rough voice sounded from the next stall, and a big, burly fellow sauntered over, dropping one arm possessively around Emily's slim shoulders. “How many times have I told you not to get cosy with strangers, wife? Do I have to beat it into your pretty little head?” He snorted when he noticed Carver glaring at him. “What is it, Fereldan? Don't you like the way we talk to our women around here? Us Marchers know better than to let them get too uppity.” He laughed, and it wasn't a pleasant laugh. “ _We_ are not bowing to some stuck-up floozy, just because she calls herself _queen,_ like your Anora.”

Carver took a deep breath, but before he could give the ruffian the answer he deserved, he noticed the expression in Emily’s eyes, behind her brave smile: fear and an almost desperate plea not to get involved. _I would probably only make things worse for her_. Swallowing his reply, he nodded silently and returned his attention to his other customers. Emily's husband snorted loudly and walked off, dragging her behind him and muttering obscenities.

Suddenly, Carver couldn't wait to be home, with Neth and Maeghan and Meraud. Their daughter. His chest constricted painfully at the thought that this would have been the life that awaited her, had she been born among the fishermen instead of among the merfolk: an early marriage, a baby every year, instant and cheerful obedience to her husband’s whims and wishes.

He sent a fervent prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening, Maker or Goddess. Whatever else awaited her, Meraud would be spared Emily's fate. She would grow up free, able to pick her own mates, to shape her own destiny. She would be like her mother, strong and proud. And she would be loved and protected as no child had ever been, with both him and Neth ready to give everything for her.

“Ah, serah, I see you're back.” A deep, rolling voice with a thick accent tore him from his thoughts. “You truly sell the finest pearls and corals I've ever seen. One day, I'll find out where you get them from.”

Carver grinned cheerfully at the man, a trader from Starkhaven he'd done business with before. “Now, now, Serah Douglas. We all have our trade secrets, don't we? What may I show you today?”

* * *

As he sat on the beach and waited for Maeghan, the boat safely stowed away, his thoughts returned once again to the scene he'd observed at the market, between Emily and her husband. There had been a time when it would have seemed perfectly normal, nothing to worry about. Nowadays, it made him recoil in disgust, made him wonder what could be done for the girl.

There was no doubt that he had changed. The old Carver, the stubborn, grumpy boy, was gone, a thing of the past. Living among the merfolk had transformed him into a different person, had altered his outlook and the way he saw the world.

True, he was still struggling to accept the merpeople’s ways at times. Some part of him would probably always resent the fact that the women were in charge. To his mind, what had happened with Andras was clear proof that their way wasn't perfect either. But, at least they respected their menfolk as warriors and did their best to treat them right, most of the time. As long as he was with Maeghan, Carver was more than content to stay.

He grabbed a piece of driftwood and began idly sketching stick figures in the sand. A woman, two men, a baby… He smiled at the finished artwork. The sea would wash it away when the tide came in, and it would be as if it had never been there.

Carver inhaled sharply, as a thought struck him. What would have happened if he hadn't gone overboard that night? What would have become of him if he'd stayed with his mother and brother? He'd never have met Maeghan and Neth, would never have experienced the love they'd offered him. And Meraud, who had just begun to crawl and was keeping them all on their toes as she explored the cave – in all probability, she wouldn't even exist. The thought was painful and he quickly chased it away.

Walking to the water's edge, he let the waves wash around his bare toes, relishing the familiar feeling. The sea was calling out for him to return to its embrace. On the horizon, the sun stood low, painting the sky a soft coral red. It was quiet and peaceful and the sheer perfection of the moment warmed his heart, bringing tears to his eyes.

A few paces ahead of him, the waves rippled and parted as Maeghan's slim, graceful silhouette rose from the waves. When she saw him, she gave him a wide, welcoming smile, extending her arms toward him. "Carver. Time to go home." Her voice sounded sweet and musical.

He waded into the surf, hugging her tightly, cradling her in his arms.

_Yes. Time to go home._

*The end*

 

**Author's Note:**

> Giant hugs and thanks to my wonderful beta suilven.  
> 


End file.
